


Search the Sea

by Qzil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, The Last Unicorn AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qzil/pseuds/Qzil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After learning that he is the last unicorn in the world, Castiel goes on a journey to find his brothers and sisters and to bring them home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The unicorn lived in a sunlit wood, and he lived all alone. He was very old; though he had lost count of exactly how many years he had walked the earth. He did not look like the unicorns of legend, being midnight black instead of sea white, with two wings, each slightly larger than the span of his body. His eyes were a deep blue, and the horn that rose from the middle of his head glowed with its own internal light like a star in the heavens.

The unicorn had not always lived alone. Once, the sunlit wood had been filled with his brothers and sisters, each of them content to live in the forest that their father had placed them in so long ago. Though he and his siblings had names, they were seldom used, as they identified each other by hide color as they moved silently through the woods, watching over the mortal creatures as they were born and lived and loved and died.

His russet colored sister was the first to leave, the others following after her, one by one, until the midnight black unicorn was the only one left in the woods that his father had ordered him to protect. Being alone did not bother the unicorn, however. He knew his siblings would eventually return, and he could feel them still, as he could feel all the unicorns in the world.

He was immortal, or near enough that he never thought about his death. Like all the immortal creatures of the world, he could not feel as mortals did. The unicorn was not made to doubt or to regret or love; all he knew was contentment in his woods, and a warm assurance from somewhere inside himself that it was enough for him.

The unicorn’s favorite part of the forest was a small meadow near the stream. In the early mornings he would walk through it, the soft, early-morning light pouring down as the birds sang and the tiny creatures of the day chattered amongst themselves in the trees and grass. He often came here to watch the deer graze or the birds scratch the ground for bugs, fascinated by their need to eat and the way they would prance around as if it was their last day alive.

On one such day two humans wondered into his woods. The unicorn followed them cautiously, never letting the humans catch a glimpse of his dark hide.

“Tell me why we had to take this shortcut again, Mom?” the first human asked. The older woman next to her shrugged and tossed back her hair.

“Because I said so, Jo,” she replied. “Do you want to get to the next village by nightfall or not? We’ve only got so much time before the full moon and that werewolf rears its ugly head again.”

“But it feels wrong here,” the other human insisted, glancing around fearfully. “It’s like I can feel something watching us.”

“Something probably is,” the older woman told her daughter. “But it isn’t anything we should hunt, Jo. It’s a unicorn.”

“Mom, there’s no such thing as unicorns,” the younger woman said as she pulled her blonde hair from her face. “If there were ever unicorns, they’re all dead by now.”

“Jo, we’ve been all over the world, and have you ever seen a forest like this? All the locals say that the snow never falls here, and that the woods are always untouched by the turn of the seasons. They’re afraid to come here because something not natural is causing it. But there’s only one thing I know that can halt the seasons, and that’s unicorn magic,” she said patiently.

“Mom, there’s practically nothing written on unicorns, so how do you know all this?” the blonde girl asked.

“When I was a girl, my great grandmother told me a story that her mother told her when she was a child,” her mother replied. “When she was a girl, there was a boy in her village who was wandering in the woods one day, seeking some peace and quiet from his mother, when he found a unicorn grazing by the stream. He was attacked by bandits, but instead of fleeing, the unicorn charged the men. He said he saw a flash of bright light, and instead of a red unicorn, there was a red-haired woman standing by the stream, holding a sword twisted like a horn. She killed the men with her sword.”

“Did she kill the boy, too?” the blonde asked. Her mother shook her head.

“Nah, he married her. She lived to a ripe old age, too. There were no children, and the sword was lost,” she told her. The blonde human rolled her eyes.

“That sounds like a fairy story, Mom,” she said.

“Jo, with the kind of stuff we hunt, I’m surprised you can call anything a fairy story.” She shook her head again. “At any rate, all of the unicorns but the one here are gone, and we won’t find the one that lives here. Hopefully it stays here, or it’ll be gone like the others. The red smoke took ‘em all.”

“The red smoke? What the heck’s the red smoke?” the blonde asked, wrinkling her nose.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you about it,” her mother said stiffly. “Now, come on. We gotta ride faster. It’s almost the full moon, and this village that Bobby told me about is near hysterical tryin’ to find out what’s been attacking all these people and stealing their hearts.”

The unicorn watched the humans kick their horses into a gallop down the trail, but he did not follow.

.

Much later, he walked through the meadow again, the afternoon sunlight having chased the creatures of the forest back into their dens under the trees until nightfall. Restless, he wondered beyond the meadow to the end of the forest, stopping just at the edge of the tree line. “I cannot be the only unicorn there is,” he said to himself, and then stared silently, as if afraid of his own voice.

Even when his siblings had lived together, they had seldom talked aloud. He had not heard the sound of his own gruff voice for well over a century, since the last of his siblings had left the safety of the sunlit wood. He stared out at the flat land around his forest, opened his wings once before snapping them closed again, and shook his head before retreating to the meadow. 

.

“But how could I leave here?” he asked himself the next day, sitting at the edge of the meadow. “My father charged me with protecting this place, and if the others were gone, I would know.” Still, a voice nagged at the back of his head.

 _The others left,_ it seemed to whisper, _and perhaps it is time for you to leave as well._ He ignored the voice and remembered his father’s orders.

“He would want me to find them,” the unicorn said aloud to himself. “He would want me to bring them home where they belong.” Still, the unicorn lingered for another day and night, not leaving the comfort of his meadow. At the dawn of the second day, he sprang up from where he was resting and ran to the edge of the wood, stopping again at the tree line. “I will find them,” he decided. “I will find my brothers and sisters and I will bring them home.” He recalled what the older human had said about a red unicorn turned human, and for a moment he felt a tiny pang for the lost unicorn.

 _Anna,_ he remembered. _Her name was Anna._

Shaking his head again, the unicorn slowly stepped out of the woods for the first time in his life and bolted down the path before spreading his wings and launching himself skyward.

The unicorn flew as far as he could before gliding back to the ground and walking on the road. Folding his sore wings to his sides, the unicorn searched for a place to sleep. Crickets began to sing in the air and fireflies flickered in the darkness, flying around his glowing horn in a random dance.

Finding a soft patch of grass, the unicorn settled himself on the ground and dreamed.

He dreamed that he was back in the meadow in his woods, the sunlight spilling over the grass as the animals grazed.

“Hello, brother.”

The unicorn turned his head and watch a young woman walk from the woods. She knelt on the grass next to him, the skirt of her long, flowing gown spreading around her. She ran her pale hand over the white fabric, smoothing it, before looking at him. The sun reflected off her hair, turning the red tresses into a burning copper halo. Her eyes, heavy with grief and the weight of many lifetimes, seemed to stare through him.

“Anna,” he said quietly.

She smiled. “You know me, brother.”

“You’re dead.”

She shrugged her bare shoulders and plucked at the grass. “For a time, yes. But part of me is still in this realm. And, of course, our father can be a great help when he wishes.”

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I know what you’re doing, Castiel.”

The unicorn flinched away from the sound of his name and stared out across the meadow. “No one has called me by my name for a long time.”

His sister rested her hand on the side of his neck. “I know, brother, I know,” she murmured. Anna withdrew her hand and pressed her body to Castiel’s, leaning against his stronger form. He opened one of his wings and folded it around her.

“Why did you do it?” he asked.

“They were going to hurt that boy,” Anna said quietly. She sighed and relaxed under his wing. “I didn’t think. I love humans, Castiel. They are so full of life and love and things I would never have gotten to do if I had stayed or come back here. My husband was a good man, and the things I got to do as a human seemed like miracles. I did miss my wings, though.” She ran her hand over Castiel’s wing, stroking the feathers. “I missed flying.”

“If you could make a different choice, would you turn back?”

Anna shook her head, nuzzling his neck. “No. I knew from the first moment I stood in that clearing I would never trade my humanity for anything. Not for my immortality, or my beauty, or my grace. Not even for my wings.” They sat in silence for a while and watched the animals graze and come to drink from the stream. “I forgot how beautiful this place was.”

“Why are you here, Anna?”

“I came to warn you,” she said softly, continuing to stroke his feathers. “Castiel, your mission is dangerous, but you can do it. You can find the others if you are brave. The red smoke took our brothers and sisters. It drove them to the ends of the earth and covered their footprints so no man or beast could find them. But you are not a man, and you are no ordinary beast. You will find them and bring them home. Men will tell tales of the red smoke, or whisper of unicorns. Follow them.”

“What is the red smoke?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. Moving her hand, Anna lightly traced the base of his horn. “I kept my horn because it was my intent to fight. Remember that, Castiel.”

“You kept your horn?”

Anna smiled, and a long, twisted sword appeared in her hand. It was the color of blood just beginning to rust, and seemed to glow and hum in the sunlight. “It can no longer heal or save a life. My intent was to save that man by destroying the others, so that is all that it can do now. But, yes, I kept it for all of my days. A unicorn’s horn is proof against death itself, but it can also kill anything in this world. Remember that, too.”

Anna shrugged out from under his wing and ran her fingers over the feathers a final time before she stepped away from him. He stood to follow her, but she held out her hand. “How do you know all of this?”

Anna raised her face to the sky. “Our father told me. The one who made us all. He knows what your journey will bring, brother, and he has great plans for you.” She lowered her head and smiled at him. “Mortality is a beautiful thing, Castiel. Do not take it for granted.”

Anna turned away from him. “Wait, please! I have more questions!” he called. She ignored him and walked into the trees, vanishing among the foliage.

Castiel jerked awake, staring into a set of cold, iron bars. A dark-haired woman smiled at him from the other side. “Well, and here I thought they were all gone. Hello, little unicorn.”

“Ruby, I don’t think this is a good idea,” said a tall man. The dark-haired woman huffed and turned to face him, jabbing the man in the chest.

“Shut up, Sam!” she growled. “Do you know what this could do for us? How many people would pay to see a unicorn, let alone buy one?”

“Most people can’t even tell he _is_ a unicorn,” Sam argued.

“That’s an easy fix.” Ruby waved her hand in Castiel’s direction, and a burning pain shot through him. Tossing his head, Castiel watched as Sam gaped at him. “Now everyone will see the other horn. No one cares about the wings. Most legends don’t mention those.”

“It still isn’t right!”

Ruby scowled. “Don’t do anything stupid, Sam.” She turned to face Castiel again and smiled sweetly. “In case you get any ideas about escaping, just know I have something that can hurt even you.” She drew a knife from her hip and ran her fingers over the steel. “It can kill almost anything. Of course, there are a few things it can’t kill, like dragons, or you, but the wound will still hurt like a bastard. Enough to keep you down while I put you back in that cage, anyway. At least, that’s what the legends say.”

Pushing the knife back into her belt, she smiled again. “Let me go,” Castiel said softly. “I have a quest.”

“Better here than on that quest,” she argued. “You’re safer here than on the road. With me, the red smoke can’t get to you. Why risk your life like that?”

“You know of the red smoke?” Castiel asked.

“I know that this is a better fate than the death that you were moving toward.” The woman ran her hand down the tall man’s arm. “Come on, Sam. It’s almost dawn. Time for the show to open.”

“Show?”

Sam opened his mouth, but Ruby drove her elbow into his side. “Stay away from him, Sam.” She smirked at Castiel. “Sammy and I collect oddities and display them to the adoring public. The peasants love to see the creepy crawlies of the night behind bars.”

The sky began to lighten, and Castiel turned his head to see that his was not the only cage. Arranged in a half circle, he counted six other cages, each containing a snarling beast. When he looked harder, the images of the mythical creatures faded away to reveal ordinary animals.

“They are all illusions,” he said. “That dragon you claim to hold is nothing but a snake, and that griffin is nothing but a horse.”

“They’re safer that way. Sam and I educate the masses about the best way to kill supernatural creatures. This way they’re safe while they learn, and they get a bit of a show.” The woman glanced at the cages. “My magic can’t change things, I admit, but it can fool the stupid peasants that come to see the show. Thing is, people look at a unicorn and see something it’s not, no matter how much they want to believe. People are stupid.”

“Keep the illusions, but set me free. I have a quest,” he repeated.

“Never,” Ruby spat. “How many witches can say they ever held a unicorn? Not one. You’re mine.” She turned on her heal and walked across the clearing, her skirt swishing in the early-morning air.

“I’m sorry,” the man said quietly. “I told her to leave you alone, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Your friend should have,” Castiel replied. “It is unwise to try to hold a real supernatural creature captive.”

“I know.” Sam shifted where he stood. “I had this brother once. He and I used to hunt monsters, before he went missing and I joined up with Ruby. Look, if I can, I’ll get you out of here.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“Sam, get over here!” Ruby called, opening the door to a wagon. “We have ledgers to go over before the people start lining up.”

“I will be back,” Sam promised.

.

Castiel sat through the people coming to see the illusions until the crowd left at nightfall. He watched one old woman with faded, coppery hair cry when she saw him, her eyes a deep, dark blue, and felt a pain grow in his chest. The moon rose to the top of the sky before Sam appeared, bathing the clearing in a silver glow.

“I’m sorry. I had to wait until she was asleep,” he said. “Ruby’s a bit of a night owl, like me.” Fishing into his pocket, Sam withdrew a pin. “I couldn’t get the keys from her.”

“I could escape myself if I could reach the lock,” Castiel explained as he watched Sam work at the metal. After a few moments, Sam opened the lock and stepped back, pulling open the cage as he went.

“There you go. You’re free,” he said. Delicately, Castiel stepped out of the cage. He tossed his head and felt the weight of the fake horn disappear as soon as all four of his feet were on the ground.

Taking a few steps away from the cage, Castiel tossed his head again. “I thank you.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. You should get outta here before-”

“Before Ruby finds us?” Ruby asked, stepping from the shadows. She gripped her knife and smiled. “Tut, tut, Sam. Here I thought you cared about me.”

“This was wrong,” Sam said, stepping in front of Castiel. “Let him go, Ruby.”

“Put him back in that cage, Sam.” She stepped closer and held the knife up. “Or move out of the way and let me do it.”

Sam held up his hands. “C’mon, Ruby. Don’t do this.”

“We could trade him for your brother, you realize that, right?” Her smile got wider when Sam stared at her in shock.

“You know where Dean is? You know and you didn’t tell me?”

“You would’ve left,” she said softly. “But if we give Alastair that unicorn, he might give us Dean.” Her smile softened and she let her knife arm dangle at her side. Walking right up to him, Ruby placed a hand on his face. “All three of us together, Sam. All you have to do is turn over one little supernatural creature. You’ve done that a million times with Dean, haven’t you?”

Sam stared down at her. “Evil things. Not a unicorn. Dean wouldn’t want something else hurt just so I can find him.”

Her face darkened. “Move, Sam. Now. That’s my unicorn. I’m keeping him.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll move you,” Ruby said sadly, lifting the knife again. Sam backed away, eyes widening, and dodged when she swung her knife at him.

Castiel backed away from the fight, ignoring the screeches as Sam and Ruby lunged at each other in the clearing. Walking toward the cages, he touched each lock with his horn. The iron made a soft sound when it hit the grass and the doors opened with a creak. He watched as each of the animals raced for the trees, the illusions cloaking them falling away once they touched the ground outside the cages.

He turned as the last animal ran off and watched Ruby lock her hand around Sam’s throat. The tall boy gurgled, one hand reaching for the knife that had been flung to the side.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Ruby said as he flailed underneath her. “I really am.” Passively, Castiel stared at the pair, wings rustling slightly.

Sam finally grabbed the knife and threw his weight, managing to pin Ruby down under him. Without speaking, he plunged it into her stomach. She stared up at him, disbelief written on her face. “I’m sorry, too. I can’t let you hurt something that’s not evil.”

Silently, Castiel walked up to Sam. “I would thank you for that, too, but I am not sure you want my thanks.”

“No.”

“You regret what you had to do,” he observed, not looking at Ruby’s body.

“Of course I do. I loved her.” Sam looked away. “But you don’t?”

“No,” the unicorn said, no emotion in his voice. “I can’t feel that. I can feel sorrow, although I do not feel that for her, but I suppose that is not the same thing.

“Not even close.”

“Is there anything I could do for you?” Castiel asked gently. Sam pulled the knife from Ruby’s body and wiped it on the grass before shoving it through his belt.

“Can you help me find my brother? If she wasn’t lying, then he might still be out there.”

“I do not think so,” Castiel answered. “If I had met him before, I could find him again. But I have never spoken to a human before now.”

“You said you had a quest,” Sam said, changing the subject. “What are you looking for?”

“The others. I was told that the red smoke took them all somewhere. I intend to find my brothers and sisters, and to free them if I can. Do you know anything of the red smoke?”

“Only where it comes from,” Sam told him, pointing to the east. “A kingdom on the edge of the sea. I don’t know what it’s really called. For years and years everyone’s just called it Hell. It’s ruled by a man named Crowley. Ruby wouldn’t go near there, and the people in the other countries we went to were all scared of him.”

“Then that’s where I will go,” Castiel said softly.

Sam shrugged and stood, brushing the grass off his knees. “I’ll go with you.”

“Why?”

Sam shrugged again and looked away. “I dunno. I might find my brother on the way, or I could help you. There’s nothing for me here.”

“If you wish,” the unicorn said. He turned away from Ruby’s body and walked toward the east, waiting for Sam to follow.


	2. Chapter 2

“Tell me more of the red smoke, and of this King Crowley,” Castiel requested as they walked.

Sam shrugged. “Crowley’s easy. He rules over a kingdom by the sea, and all his people are afraid of him. When he was younger he served at court as a magician, but he wanted to climb higher. He could’ve asked to marry the princess, but he hated her. Instead, he killed the king, Lucifer, and his son, Azazel. The princess is still alive, apparently. Some people say she’s dead. No one really knows. But they say he can’t be killed.

“They call his country Hell because it’s barren. The people there are all scared of him, and monsters are everywhere. It wasn’t much better under Lucifer, but at least then everyone was united.”

“And the red smoke?” Castiel pressed.

Sam shrugged. “I’ve heard too many different things. The red smoke is a devil from Hell that does Crowley’s bidding. The red smoke is Crowley himself after the sun goes down, or during a full moon. That one’s obviously peasant gossip based on werewolves.  Crowley controls the red smoke, or it controls him. It’s some sort of demonic possession that’s not Crowley at all, but something squatting in his flesh that comes out to destroy things.

“They say that the land withers when the red smoke touches it. That the trees melt and grass goes black with death. That the people it passes over age in an instant. Young maidens become old women with hunched backs, and men in their prime emerge from it with wrinkles on their faces and arthritis. Livestock becomes poison when the red smoke touches it. Cows give sour milk that can kill a man and chickens lay bloody eggs. It’s all nonsense.”

The unicorn snorted and stamped his foot.

“Well, that’s what I’ve heard. There’s too much myth scattered around to know what’s real and what isn’t. We used to know a guy who had books on every bit of lore out there, but even his stuff contradicted everything on the red smoke. It’s all just speculation at this point.”

“I suppose I shall find the truth, then,” Castiel said.

Sam halted on the path, staring into the woods. “We’re near the edge of Hell now. Stay close to me. It could be dangerous here.”

“There is no danger for me. Men can do nothing of importance.”

“They can kill you.”

The unicorn studied the dirt path in front of them. “I suppose so. But they would have to try very hard.”

“Just stay close, and run if I tell you to,” Sam told him. The unicorn only stared for a moment before he walked into the trees without seeing if Sam was following.

The woods were silent around them as they walked. Leaves crunched under Sam’s boots, but the unicorn’s hooves made no sound as he glided down the path. Castiel lifted his wings slightly and snapped them back to his body as he peered through the bare trees.

The land around them was parched of all color. The trees rose bare and brown above their heads, forming a canopy over the path. The moment they stepped under the trees the sky turned a soapy gray, and sunlight only shone faintly through the branches. Even the air seemed colder as they walked through the silent forest. The silence pressed on the unicorn as he walked through the wood that was so unlike his own.

But the farther they walked, the less oppressive the forest seemed. Wherever Castiel set his hooves down life began to form. Slowly the bare trees filled with leaves behind them, stretching for the faint sun as animals began to chatter. Sam didn’t question it.

Suddenly, Castiel paused on the path, diamond-shaped ears standing up as his eyes darted. “What is it?” Sam asked.

“There’s someone in the trees,” the unicorn answered calmly. “Is this where we should run?”

As if in answer, two men stepped onto the path in front of them. One, with hair long in the back but short in the front, hefted a crossbow. “State your business, stranger.”

Sam held up his hands. “Just passing through. I’m on my way to Crowley’s castle.”

“Why would you wanna go there?” asked his companion, a balding man with dark skin.

“I’m looking for something,” Sam answered. Slowly, he lowered his hand and gripped the hilt of his knife.

“I wouldn’t do that,” said the younger man. “What’s your name?”

“Sam Winchester.”

The younger man lowered his crossbow while the older man whistled and laughed. “No foolin’? Well, we got someone who’d be glad to see you.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The older man laughed again. “Oh, yes you are, boy. I’m Rufus, and this is Ash. Now come on. Your brother’d like to see you.”

“You know where Dean is?”

“Our fearless leader? Back at camp,” Rufus said. “Now, come on. Bring your horse.”

Castiel neighed angrily at the man, who only laughed again.

.

“Hey, Dean, we’re back!” Ash called, pulling Sam behind him. Emerging into a large clearing with the unicorn behind him, Sam gaped.

Life bustled around them in the clearing. Smoke rose from a fire in the middle where a large pot a soup simmered, a dark-haired woman lazily stirring it with a spoon. Small homes were nestled on the edge and high in the trees. People moved around, laughing or talking with one another as children raced by playing some sort of game. A dog barked.

“Welcome to camp,” Rufus said, heading for a large building at the edge of the clearing. A few people stopped to stare at Sam and Castiel as they followed Rufus, whispering among themselves. The dark-haired woman stirring the soup smiled slightly at Sam when he walked by.

“I’ll send someone for more water for the soup,” she called to Rufus. The older man laughed.

“We should really take you off cooking rotation. That’s all you know how to make, Amelia.”

“I’m a doctor, not a chef,” the woman huffed.

“What is this place?” Sam asked.

“A community of people doing what you and your brother did,” Rufus answered. “There are a lot of nasty things in this area. We take care of it.”

“Dean’s alive? I looked for him when he disappeared, but I could never find him.”

“I got out on my own,” a gruff voice said. Sam looked up and saw his brother ducking out of the home, another dark-haired woman following behind him. A little boy ran out, ducking under Dean’s arm and scampering over to Amelia.

The brothers stared at each other for a moment before Sam took a step forward and pulled Dean into an embrace. “I thought you were dead.”

“Clearly I’m not,” Dean answered, pulling away from his brother. “What happened to you? I looked for you after I escaped from Alastair, but-”

“Oh,” the woman behind Dean said softly. She stared over Sam’s shoulder and raised a trembling hand to her mouth. “Oh, Dean. Look.”

“What is it, Lisa?” he asked. He stared over Sam’s shoulder as Castiel walked toward them. “Oh.”

“It’s a miracle,” Lisa whispered. She took a step forward, her dress swishing around her legs. She raised a trembling hand toward the unicorn and stopped just short of touching him. “No one else can tell, can they?”

“Just you three,” the unicorn answered. He studied Dean and then turned to Sam. “Your quest is done, Sam Winchester. I will take leave of you now to finish my own.”

“You’re a quest with a unicorn?” Dean asked, staring at his brother. “Damn, Sammy. You got up to a lot when I was gone.”

Sam smiled. “You, too, it looks like.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, well, someone had to do it.”

The unicorn spread his wings and snapped them closed, impatient. “I am glad you have found your family, but I must find mine as well. Tell me the way to Crowley’s kingdom and I will move on.”

“You can’t go there by yourself,” Dean argued. He looked around the clearing and turned to Lisa. “Lis…”

She smiled at him. “Go. I’ll be here when you get back, Ben and me both.”

Dean drew her forward and kissed her forehead. “You’re the best.” He turned to Sam and Castiel. “We should stay here for tonight and go in the morning. I have to set things up with Rufus. Bobby’s out right now with Ellen and Jo, but when he gets back we’ll put him in charge until you and I come back here.”

“Bobby’s alive?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, the old guy’s still going.” Dean looked at Castiel. “We’re going with you.”

“That is not necessary,” the unicorn said.

“Like we’re gonna let a unicorn walk into the mouth of Hell alone,” Dean retorted. “Besides, what hunter can say they worked with a real unicorn?”

Castiel stared silently at the brothers before turning away and settling himself on the other side of the clearing, just under the trees. As the day went by, he watched Sam and Dean talk with one another while Lisa packed supplies for their journey. At dawn, she sent Dean off with a kiss and a smile, while the small boy hugged him and made Dean promise to come back.

She looked at Castiel a last time and smiled at him, too. “Thank you, for coming to us. I thought I’d never see a unicorn. I was told they were all gone.”

Castiel simply walked into the trees.

.

“So, you and that girl?” Sam asked as they walked down the path.

“Lisa’s great. We rescued her kid from a changeling and she decided to come back with us. Do some good, you know? Her village was overrun by monsters at that point, anyway.”

“The kid?”

“Not mine, but he’s a good kid,” Dean answered. “What about you?”

Sam told Dean of his life since his brother had disappeared on one of their hunts, until he came to his time with Ruby. He halted there, eyes focusing on the barren road ahead of him. “Then I met Castiel, and he took me with him.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it, Sammy. She lied to you,” Dean said.

“How did you escape from Alastair?” Sam asked.

“He let me down,” Dean answered. “He offered to let me torture other people, and I took it. But I turned the knife on him and ran out of there. I found Bobby again and we joined up with Ellen and Jo, and then Ash came along, and Rufus, and everybody else. We decided to just camp up in the woods.” Lifting the sleeve of his shirt, Dean showed Sam a brand scar on his shoulder that ran nearly to his elbow. Pink, puckered skin stood out angrily against the rest of Dean’s pale arm, the twisted mark nearly pulsing in the cold air. “Hurts like a bitch, but we can’t figure out a way to get rid of it.”

“Let me,” Castiel said quietly, interrupting the brothers. He touched his dark horn lightly to Dean’s arm. In an instant, the brand faded to nearly white and shrank so it was confined to Dean’s shoulder. Instead of a long, twisted mark, it now resembled the unicorn’s own horn. “I cannot get rid of it all the way. There is magic in it. That is as much as I can do.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean answered, pulling his sleeve down. “Now, what quest are we on, exactly?”

“The others have gone. I am the last unicorn in the world,” Castiel explained. “They are missing. Vanished. I must find them.”

“How the Hell did they just vanish?” Dean asked.

“When I was home, my sister, Anna, came to me in a dream and told me the red smoke took them all and drove them to the end of the world,” the unicorn said. “But she would not tell me more. Only that I would find them if I was brave.”

Dean snorted. “If she can come to you in a dream, why can’t the other ones?”

“Anna is dead,” Castiel said gently. “She died a long time ago. She turned into a human and she died.”

“How is that possible? I’ve heard stories, but they’re very old.”

“She was sitting in our woods when she came across a human boy. Anna had always loved humans. Of all my brothers and sisters, she was the one who went to them most often. She let young maidens ride on her back through the trees and slept with her head in the laps of young boys running from their mothers. She found a young man in our woods, running from home for some peace and quiet, and he was set upon by bandits. She changed into a human and killed them, and never came home again.

“I do not know how she changed herself, or even if she did it. In my dream she told me that our father knew what my quest was, and that he would help. Perhaps he helped her, too.”

“Your father?” Dean asked.

The unicorn raised his head to the sky. “The father who made us all, Dean.” Refusing to say more, the unicorn ruffled his feathers and continued down the path.

.

_“Oh, rest for the wicked there shall never be, for in this life there’s no comfort for me. I’m a villain strong and graceful and wise, but only a maiden to the innocent’s eyes,”_ a dark haired woman sang, walking along next to a stream. _“In the dark of the night or the harsh light of day the devil in me comes to kill. Shame me and beat me, defeat me and bleed me, I’ll still see you at the mouth of Hell.”_

The woman tapped her knife against her thigh as she walked. Her shirt, ripped to tatters on her back, dangled off her frame, displaying several gashes across her pale skin. She paid them no mind and continued to stride down the road, her hips swaying as she sang. _“Oh, I am a villain, strong and graceful and wise, a demon under the skin. You’ll bow down before me, abhor or adore me, and I’ll take back my kingdom again.”_

She hummed and continued to walk, ignoring Sam and Dean as they paused on the other side of the stream. They watched as a man stepped out to block her path.

“We should help her,” Sam whispered, moving his hand to his knife. Dean prepared to cross the stream when the woman sprang to the side and swept the man’s feet out from under him. Her face twisted in pain as leapt on top of him and drove a knife into his chest, twisting it in the wound she made.

“Or maybe not,” Dean said, shifting backwards. The dark-haired woman smirked at the body underneath her and stood.

_“Oh, I am a villain, strong and graceful and wise, but only a maiden to the innocent’s eyes,”_ she sang again. The woman limped away from them, tapping the bloody knife against her thigh along with the song.

When she was out of sight the boys crossed the river, the unicorn following behind them. “Hey, question. I thought unicorns were supposed to go to singing maidens. What gives?” Dean asked. “Was she not a virgin? Can you guys tell?”

“That’s a myth, Dean,” Castiel said. “We can go to anyone we choose. But I do not have time now. I must find the others. If I were to hear her singing when my family was free, I might to go her then, or any other woman, and lay my head in their laps and sleep. But not now. There is no time now.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You need to stop and smell the roses, Cas.”

“Cas?”

“It’s a nickname. Castiel’s a bit of a mouthful. And I can’t just call you ‘unicorn’ all the time.”

.

The farther they walked into Crowley’s kingdom, the more barren the land became. Even Castiel’s magic could not save the parched, barren ground, life ceasing to spring where he touched. Children threw stones at them and women shouted curses, or else stared at them with narrowed, distrusting eyes.

There were few other travelers on the road, and those they saw were always quick to offer Sam or Dean a hefty sum for their beautiful black horse. They always refused and left quickly, Castiel taking to the sky in order to avoid being set upon in the night by the other travelers.

While Sam and Dean slept, Castiel would fly above the trees, dark wings blotting out the moonlight as he scanned the skies. On the rare nights where the sky was clear, he imagined he could almost see all the way to his home forest. In his mind it was spring there as it had been when he left, green and sparkling and alive, although he knew that could not be. Without his presence he was sure that the forest had begun to age and move along with the world like all of the other places he had passed through on his journey, the forest experiencing the seasons as it never had before.

Occasionally he wondered if the forest would look changed when he returned, if the paths he so often walked would be carpeted by dead, decaying leaves, if the stream he so often drank from would be dry. If the meadow he so often stood in would be lush with vegetation and life, or if it, too, would die, the grass withering brown and ugly.

The thoughts haunted the unicorn like nothing else ever had. Before his journey, he had been content in his forest and his meadow, even after his brothers and sisters had left to explore the world and find their own forests. It had been his home, untouched by the passage of time, stationary and beautiful and filled with life, for as long as he had existed.

In the mornings when Sam and Dean rose with the dawn and called him down from the sky, he tried to shake the thoughts from his head. Still, they lingered, clinging to him as easily as the dirt from the road that clung to the bottom of Sam and Dean’s shoes.

.

“There is it,” Sam breathed, leaning against Castiel. The unicorn supported his weight easily and opened one of his wings, running the tips of his feathers down the tall boy’s arm for a moment before he snapped it closed.

Crowley’s castle rose in the distance, piercing the soapy gray of the sky and casting a shadow over the land. The color of the earth, it sprawled over the land like a great lance, the pointed spiral towers balancing on each other. Even from the distance they could see the large windows on the towers and the large, ugly lumps of the gargoyles that lined the roof like sentinels.

A breeze blew, ruffling the unicorn’s mane and bringing the smell of the sea to them. Sam and Dean inhaled deeply; taking the salt air into their lungs and blowing it back out. The taste of the sea lingered in the back of their throats, clinging to them like a spider web. If the unicorn noticed the change in the air, he did not comment, instead staring at the blue-gray water in the distance with an air of familiarity.

“I have never seen the sea before,” he said. The unicorn stretched his neck to fix his feathers, ruffled by the wind.

“Me, either,” Sam told him. “Dean?”

“We never came this far into Hell,” Dean answered. “It feels weird here, so close to Crowley.”

“Heavy,” the unicorn said softly. “The air feels heavy. Wrong. There is strong magic here.”

“If we walk all day we might make it there by dawn tomorrow,” Dean grumbled. “C’mon, guys. I see a town. Maybe we can get food.”

They picked their way down the path, Castiel’s wings flaring out for balance as they did. As they walked, the land seemed less barren, but when Dean pulled an apple from a tree, he spat it back onto the road, complaining at the bitter taste.

“Magic taints things, always,” Castiel said as he stepped over the apple. “It is all about intent. Magic should be pure and helpful. Magic that is not meant to heal or better someone’s life will always destroy. It can be yourself or the land around you, or those you love or hate, but it will always harm things in the end.” He ruffled his feathers again to shake the film of salt from them. “The king has brought his own doom.”

Without speaking again, the unicorn started down the path. Sam and Dean followed slowly, the uneven road causing them to trip and stumble. The unicorn walked with flowing grace, unaffected by the stones that reached to trip the travelers and send them sprawling to the ground.

They reached the town and were greeted by wide, suspicious eyes and pursed lips. The children stood and watched them silently, halting their games and withdrawing behind their mother’s skirts. Even the dogs and cats seemed to sense that there was something wrong. Instead of staring at the boys, they stared at the unicorn, half in awe and half in fear.

“What is up with these people?” Dean whispered, glancing around. Looking around Sam, he gestured to a villager. “Uh, hey. Is there anywhere we can get some food around here?”

“We don’t like strangers here,” snapped a dark skinned woman with short, black hair. “You all should just continue on your way.” A skinny blonde girl nodded from behind her, clutching the arm of an older man with a large noise and greasy, chin-length hair.

“You can come in here,” another dark haired woman called from the doorway of a large building. Dean glanced up at the sign above the door where the name _Devil’s Pub_ was scrawled in neat handwriting.

“Casey, don’t,” whispered a tall man with gray hair. She shrugged away from him.

“C’mon, Gil. They don’t look like they could hurt a fly.” She smoothed her hand over her red blouse and down her skirt, as black as Castiel’s mane. “We have a nice little outside setup in the back. Tie up your horse and get some food, then you can get out.”

Dean shrugged. “Thanks. C’mon, Sam.” The brothers followed the pale-skinned woman back behind the pub, the tall man glaring at them. She left them for a moment and emerged with two bowls of stew and mugs of beer, the froth spilling over the glasses and onto her tray.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “We don’t get travelers often here at Hellmouth.”

“Hellmouth?” Sam asked. Castiel nickered softly.

Casey shrugged her bare shoulders. “Crowley’s castle is Hell, and we’re right at the mouth of it. Might as well call it what it is.”

“We’re looking for Crowley, actually,” Dean told her. “Just for some information. We’re looking for something.”

“You won’t find it,” Casey said, taking her own seat at the table. “If you’re looking to kill him, I wish you all the luck in the world, but it won’t happen. The princess has tried over and over with no luck.”

“The princess has tried to kill him?” Sam asked.

Casey nodded. “Oh, yeah. Dozens of times. The man can’t be killed.”

“So the princess is alive. That’s one rumor that’s true.”

“He hasn’t killed her yet. He tries to keep her prisoner in the castle, but she keeps getting out. Of course, it’s our duty to report her back to his guards if she does. Doesn’t mean we like doing it, though,” Casey explained. “He always catches her again. It’s like magic.”

“Why do you guys even care?” Dean asked.

Casey sighed and pillowed her head in her hands. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders and brushed the tabletop. “He’d kill us if we kept her from him. Crowley doesn’t like disloyalty. But if she does manage to kill him one day then she’ll be our queen, and good riddance to those who were completely loyal to Crowley when that happens. She’s her father’s daughter for sure. Azazel was a tyrant, and so was Lucifer, but they knew how to run a country.”

Sam began to eat his soup, making a face at the flavor. Far too salty and nearly colorless, the broth and meager chunks of meat both felt slimy going down his throat. Dean, too, made a face and pushed the bowl away, reaching for his beer.

“Yeah, sorry. The place hasn’t been doing that well since Crowley took over,” Casey said. “The food, the land, everything. It’s all gone to crap.”  She shrugged and took the bowls away. “At least the beer tastes the same. But it’s life.”

“Why don’t you leave?” Sam asked, picking up his own beer.

“Where would we run? Crowley will find us wherever we go. He has designs on expanding his boarders,” Casey explained. “I wish you two luck at the castle, I really do. I hope you find a way to kill the bastard.”

Dean dug into his pocket to pay her, but Casey held up her hand. “Well, thanks.”

“That’s the last bit of kindness you’ll ever get, I think, especially if you’re going up to Crowley,” she said. Casey pushed away from the table and walked back to the pub where Gil was waiting for her, arms crossed and glaring at the Winchesters. “You better go before my husband throws you out.”

“Alright,” Sam agreed, rising from the table and walking over to Castiel. “Just one more thing. Do you know anything about something called the red smoke?”

Casey froze on her way to the door, hands curling into fists. She glanced at Sam, eyes wide and full of fear. “No, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t mention it again, especially around Crowley. Good day, guys.”

“This isn’t good,” Dean told his brother, hefting his pack off the ground. “The people here are scared shitless of that guy, and he’s keeping a princess prisoner? I mean, shit, I’ve heard horror stories about Lucifer and Azazel, and even about her, but I never heard of anyone as scared as they are now. And Cas is right about the land going to shit. Did you taste that soup? It was like eating mud.”

“When my people are free again, they will restore the land,” Castiel promised as they started down the path. “Places where unicorns pass in freedom are blessed. But this place has soaked up evil like the ground taking in rain, and my power by itself is not enough.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sam said. “We’re almost there, though. We should walk a little farther and then find a place to spend the night so we’ll get there in the morning. Showing up at his door in the middle of the night won’t make this guy like us.”

“Well, let’s find a place to camp then.”

.

Castiel slept rarely, like all unicorns. Back in his forest he had never felt the urge to sleep. Instead, he spent his nights wandering through the wood, playing with his brothers and sisters before they left, and watching the nocturnal creatures of his forest live and love and die.

The closer they drew to Crowley’s castle, the more the need to sleep tugged at him like an insistent child. In the shadow of the castle’s twisted towers, the unicorn finally succumbed.

He dreamed of his forest, although it had changed like he feared. The unicorn instinctively knew that he was home, but the woods were unlike he had ever seen them. Brown with decay, the animals no longer chattered or ran over the well-worn dirt paths. Silent, the air was heavy with the promise of snow, and the bare branches seemed to tremble in anticipation of it.

He settled in his meadow with the dead grass tickling his belly, and inhaled the smell of rot that pressed in around him.

“You’re almost there.”

“Anna,” he said without moving. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and the grass rustled when Anna sat in the dead meadow. Absently, she plucked a withered flower from the ground.

Castiel turned to face her. The flower bloomed in Anna’s hand, the stem straightening and color returning to its petals. He watched as another flower appeared on the ground, brown and withered. Anna plucked that, too, and another sprang up in its place.

She sat in silence for a moment, plucking the dead flowers that returned to life in her hands. Castiel watched as she wove them together, singing softly. In his dream she wore a green dress, the color of beautiful spring grass. _“Winter and summer, winter and summer, so pale and green and fine. Winter and summer, winter and summer, oh what I’d give for you to be mine.”_

She hummed and continued to weave the stems together, ignoring Castiel. Life sprung under her touch as it once bloomed under his, the grass around her slowly turning green again. Finally, she finished her crown and faced him, placing it on her head. The white flowers were stark against the red of her hair, and she straightened her back in such a way that she made the flowers seem the only fitting crown for a princess.

“Winter and summer don’t really go together, of course. They’re too far apart,” she told him, stroking the grass. The wind rustled through the bare trees and swept over them, blowing some flowers from her crown. To Castiel, her ruffled appearance only served to make his sister look even lovelier, like a creature born from nature itself. Her dress seemed to blend in with the now-healthy grass under her feet, and her skin was so pale he could almost see through her.

“When you return, so shall the spring,” she murmured. The wind continued to blow, bringing the smell of the sea to them. Anna sighed. “I am near you. I can feel it, even in death. Your maiden seeks me, and she shall find me. I will be with you on your quest.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered.

“Not yet. But you will,” Anna said serenely. The wind stopped, settling her burning hair around her shoulders. She sighed, and the human sound wrapped around him. “Oh, my brother.”

“Anna, do not speak in riddles. Tell me what you mean,” he demanded, wings flaring out. She turned to look at him, the flowers in her crown wilting once again. For a moment her beauty drained and he saw the old woman she had become in life, with her wrinkles and her dull hair, and he shuddered. When he blinked the image was gone, replaced again by her young smile. Only her eyes remained old.

“Riddles. Murky, mystic, muddy riddles. My words, the way I say them, it doesn’t matter.” Anna laughed. “I’m a ghost, Castiel. We don’t have to make sense. What’s more, I’m mortal. Mortals rarely make sense, but we often pretend that we do.” She laughed again, and the color leeched from the grass under her. The smell of rot replaced the smell of the sea, and even the flowers in her hair became dry and brittle as old bones.

“Why are you here, Anna, if you’ve nothing useful to say?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ve plenty of useful things to say. You just don’t know it yet,” she told him. “In any case, I’ve waited long enough, I think. I came to warn you about more than just your future. It’s time for you to wake up and start your fairytale. Well, I say time, but that’s not really accurate. I don’t have an accurate measure of time where I am. I was a little early for this, which is why I could warn you about some other things. But it doesn’t matter now. Time never does, in the long run. Or the short run. However you want to phrase it. It still never matters.”

“Anna, please, tell me without going in circles,” Castiel begged.

“Circles, straight lines, whatever. It still doesn’t matter at all. Nothing mortals do ever matters, really.” Suddenly, the smell of the sea returned, mixing with the smell of decay. Another smell, almost like sulfur, came to them. Anna’s face began to fill with fear and she ran from him, bounding toward the other side of the clearing. The grass flared to life when her bare feet touched it, withering instantly when she lifted them again, green islands in the sea of death. “Castiel, you have to wake up! You have to wake up and you have to fight!”

Castiel scrambled to his feet. “Anna! Anna, wait!” His sister continued to run from him, swifter than any human and as graceful as a unicorn. He watched her leap over the dry stream and bound into the woods, the bare trees and shadows swallowing her form.

He took two steps forward and spread his wings, preparing to leap after her, when his forest shook. The smell of sulfur overpowered him and flooded his lungs, causing him to take a step back. A red light began to shine beyond the edge of the meadow, and in his dream the trees began to melt away like snow.

“Cas! Cas, wake up!” Dean’s voice thundered in the clearing. “Castiel! Unicorn!”

Castiel jerked awake on the ground near Hellmouth, the smell of sulfur obliterating even the smell of the sea. Dean screamed beside him, hefting his supplies onto his back. The unicorn got to his feet calmly, facing the sea as the wind began to blow. He gave a scream, rearing onto his hind legs and spreading his wings to their full span. His black horn glowed with its own internal light, blazing in an instinctive response to the overpowering feeling of malice that floated down the path.

Castiel bellowed again, tossing his head. A red light glowed on the path in the pre-dawn light, the color of blood spraying from a wound. Thunder shook the land.

The red smoke came.


	3. Chapter 3

It spread across the path like a great ocean wave, crashing down onto the stones and stretching high into the sky all at once. Sam and Dean froze on the path, staring at the mass in front of them in horror. Castiel bellowed his challenge again. 

For a moment the smoke seemed to hover, stagnant, in the early morning air. Then it rushed forward again, crashing down the path. The unicorn broke, fleeing from the mass of blood-colored smoke that rose up behind him.

It rushed over him and forward, blocking his escape. He heard Dean scream and whirled around in time to see the older man fall onto the path, Sam leaning against a tree beside him. Skidding in the dirt, Castiel spread his dark wings and leaped for the open air.

The smoke rose higher and higher over him before rushing back toward the earth. It seemed to flow through his body down to his very bones, and he crashed to the ground with it. Immediately regaining his footing, Castiel turned to run down the path again, the mass of smoke immediately passing over him and spreading itself along the dirt. The mass grew with every pass over the unicorn until he could not see the end of it.

Still he ran, and the smoke followed just behind him. The ground seemed to melt where it touched, the trees graying and falling away, soft and as easily bent as sun-warmed taffy under a child’s hand. The grass glowed unnaturally silver as the smoke spread around the unicorn’s feet, catching on his hooves and causing him to trip. It ravaged the land and the unicorn’s body as one.

With each touch from the blood-colored smoke the unicorn felt his body weaken. It seemed to wrap itself around his lungs and heart, aging the organs in a way the unicorn had never felt and would never feel again. For the first time in his long life, Castiel felt fear course through him.

_Anna was wrong, I will not find the others,_ he thought, spreading his wings once again. _The others are all dead, like her. It has killed them all. It will kill me, too._

The smoke passed over Castiel a final time, rushing through his wings. The unicorn stopped running and slowed to a walk, head bowed. The smell of sulfur clung to his feathers and seemed to sink into his very being, until even the now-familiar scents of Sam and Dean were lost to him.

The smoke stayed behind him, no longer rushing forward but instead lapping at his hooves as gently as the ocean on a clear summer day, pushing him toward the castle and the sea. Castiel went quietly. His limbs felt heavy and he could no longer find the strength to lift his wings from his body. For a moment the unicorn wondered if that was what it felt like to grow old before death, as his sister surely had.

Sam picked Dean up off the ground, the brothers leaning on one another for support. Sam watched as their unicorn walked placidly down the path. “It can’t want to kill him, or he’d be dead,” Sam whispered. “It’s driving him, Dean. Toward the castle and Crowley. We have to do something.”

“We can’t do anything,” Dean said angrily. “We can’t kill it. We can’t save him.”

“There has to be something!” Sam argued. Frantically, he turned his head skyward as dawn began to bloom over the land, casting a pale pink light over the forest. He looked back at the unicorn, sadness filling him. Sapped of his color, the unicorn no longer looked beautiful, but instead uglier than any creature Sam had ever seen. His pelt had faded to an ashy gray, and his mane had gone dull. The wings seemed too big for the body that held them, and the horn, once brilliant and shining and beautiful, looked no better than old, faded ink in a crumbling book.

“There has to be a way,” Sam repeated. His voice rose until he was shouting. “There has to be something we can do!”

As if Sam’s voice had broken the spell, the unicorn reared again and broke away from the smoke, whirling from the path and passing over the dead land. He ran toward Sam and Dean, kicking up dust behind him to mix with the blood-red smoke that once again chased him.

Suddenly, the unicorn halted, a nearly-human scream ripping itself from his throat. The smoke behind him stopped moving, forming a wall. “Shut your eyes!” Castiel shouted, rearing again. Lightening lit the sky and thunder rumbled, not the artificial thunder of the smoke, but the true thunder of a wrathful storm.

Castiel seemed to glow for a moment, and Dean moved, tackling Sam to the ground and throwing and arm over his younger brother’s face, squeezing his own eyes shut and burying his face in the dirt. And inhuman roar of rage thundered through the forest, shaking the path under Dean’s face.

Dean raised his head as it faded and dawn broke completely, taking the glow that still spread around Castiel with it. It vanished as the blue of the sky emerged from the clouds and sent pools of sunlight shining down on them. The red smoke itself seemed to fade, turning the color of old blood having turned brown long ago, and thinned so he could see through it.

Turning his head to the unicorn, Dean gave a low moan of pain and scrambled away from Sam. “Oh, shit.”

Sam raised his own face from the dirt. “Dean, what is it? Dean, what--oh. Oh, no.”

Where the unicorn had stood now lay a young human man, naked in the dirt. The red smoke sprawled around him for a moment before it pulled away and drew back into itself to speed down the path in a swirling motion toward the castle, nearly to the sea. It disappeared completely before they could see where it landed.

“What happened?” Sam yelled, struggling down the path. Dean continued to stare at Castiel’s still form in the dirt. Gently, Dean rolled the man over and swallowed hard. His skin was lightly tanned as if he’d spent days traveling in the sun with them in human skin instead of as a unicorn. His hair was dark as his mane, cropped short to his head but still longer than Dean’s own. Dean pushed aside the man’s bangs and found a small, raised mark in the middle of his forehead. Too light to be a bruise and too dark to be a scar, it looked to Dean like a wavy circle.

Castiel’s face seemed peaceful in sleep, and Dean thought he looked younger than even Sam. His illusion shattered when the man’s eyes opened and he fixed Dean with a stare that made his heart jump into his throat. Eyes as old as a land watched him before darting to take in the forest and finally turning skyward.

“What happened?” Castiel asked calmly. “What’s happened to me?”

“You changed,” Dean said quietly. “You’re human, Cas.”

Pushing Dean away from him, Castiel held his hands in front of his face. Trembling, he got to his feet and walked two steps before he fell. Unable to catch himself, Castiel landed face down in the dirt. Sam ran to him, not daring to touch the former unicorn, but knelt on the ground with one hand hovering above his back.

“She knew,” Castiel muttered. “She knew this would happen. She knew, and she was wrong. This is wrong. I’m a unicorn. I’m a unicorn!” His voice shook in fear, although his face betrayed no emotion. He looked at the boys, and Sam froze under his gaze.

“We don’t know what happened,” Sam told him. “The smoke came, and you just glowed and changed.”

“This is wrong,” Castiel repeated. “I can feel this body dying every second I’m trapped in it. I can feel it aging.” He shuddered. “In this form I cannot go on. It would be better for me to return to my forest.”

“Not like this,” Sam argued.

Dean shrugged. “It’s really not that bad. We dress you up a little you’d have the girls all over you.”

Castiel’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion and he began to inspect the new body. He studied both his hands, the way the veins moved as he flexed his fingers and how his wrists rotated, unlike his hooves. He turned to see his own back and lifted each of his feet to inspect them, eyes studying the summer-warmed skin. At last he raised his hand to his face and ran his fingers over his own jawline, feeling the stubble there, and through the jet-black hair. When he reached the small bump on his forehead, Castiel lowered his hands, his shoulders hunched in defeat.

“The smoke should have taken me. It would be better than being trapped in this rotting flesh,” he said.

“This could work to our advantage,” Sam pointed out. “What could you do as a unicorn in a castle? They’d toss you in the stables and you wouldn’t be able to search. Like this you could go anywhere you wanted there. In this shape it might be easier to find the others.”

Dean looked away from Castiel’s naked form. “We should get him some clothes. Sam, we have anything?”

“Just this,” Sam answered. Rummaging through his pack, Sam pulled out a long, tan coat and wrapped it around Castiel, helping him get his arms through the holes. He dressed him like one dresses a child, buttoning the coat and belting it together. His bare ankles peeked out from under the hem, exposing the sun-kissed skin to the air. “There we go. You look human now.”

“I will never be human. Not really,” Castiel told him. “If I die in this form, I will still be a unicorn. I am the last unicorn.”

“Hopefully not for long,” Dean grunted. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”

.

“You’re letting me down awfully early,” said a dark-haired woman. She rubbed her wrists as another man unlocked two cuffs that bound her to the ceiling. She fell to her knees when he did, her sore legs unable to support her weight. The stone scraped against her flesh, adding fresh blood to the crusted mess of fluids on her legs.

“We’ve got visitors coming,” the man said. He undid his leather apron and folded it neatly. “Three men. Well, two men and something else.”

“What, you can’t tell anymore?” she drawled. The woman scratched at her face, sending flakes of dried blood down onto the stone. “Shit. You did a number on me this time, your highness.”

“You killed one of my best guards,” he snapped. “I’ve had the servants draw a bath, and I’ve laid out something nice for you. Can you walk to the hall yourself, or shall I have them drag you?”

She spat at him. “Pig.”

“King,” he corrected, snapping his fingers. Two stone-faced women hurried in and lifted the injured woman between them. Her dark hair, tangled and matted with sweat, swung down in front of her face and hid her breasts. Her skin, pale as snow in the faint torchlight, seemed to throb along with her wounds. Fresh blood trickled from her forehead and into her right eye, angry and inflamed from her torture.

“Go to Hell,” she spat as the women led her from the room.

The king smiled. “Careful, pet, or I’ll put you right back on there when they leave. There are still a few toys we didn’t get to try out this time.”

Shrugging off the servant’s hands, the dark haired woman straightened her back and glared at him. In the faint light, her eyes seemed almost black. “Screw you.”

She limped through the door, clinging to the wall for support. The king laughed.

.

“This is it,” Dean said, staring up at the entrance to the castle. He walked forward with Sam, Castiel trailing behind them. The former unicorn stared at the castle walls as if he’d never seen a building quite so large. Gargoyles snarled at them from the top of the doorway, the twisted, demonic features causing the brothers to instinctively wrap their hands around their weapons. Castiel’s expression remained neutral.

“State your business,” two guards ordered as they approached the door.

“We’re here to see Crowley,” Sam said, straightening so he was at his full height. He towered over the men, but their faces remained stony under their helmets.

“We figured we could work for him,” Dean grunted. “There are a lot of monsters around here.”

As if an order had been given, the guards stepped aside and allowed the two of them through the door. “The king will see you now. We’ll take you to him.”

They followed the guards through the twisting hallways, the Winchesters taking in the lavish decorations and elaborate tapestries depicting hunts mythical creatures. Castiel stared straight ahead, ignoring the gaudy displays.

Servants in drab, gray clothing scurried around, disappearing into doorways that were hidden behind the tapestries after casting fearful glances at the boys and guards. “This place is like a tomb,” Dean whispered. “Don’t castles usually have other noble assholes walking around?”

“I’m surprised he even has servants,” Sam whispered back.

“I’m not. You think this guy wants to clean all this fancy shit himself?”

Sam shrugged in response, halting when the guards stopped outside a set of doors. Rising far above their heads and black as the unicorn’s horn, the wood itself seemed to pulse with power. The smell of magic radiated off the doors, choking the brothers. Sam and Dean both fought the urge to step back, but Castiel walked forward, narrowing his eyes at the elaborately carved symbols that twisted around one another in the wood.

“He is in here,” the guard said, pushing the door open. Castiel walked through first, coat flaring out behind him slightly. The Winchesters followed, Dean flinching when the doors slammed shut.

Dean and Sam gaped when they entered the throne room and saw the king, perched on a large stone chair. Next to him stood the woman they had seen beside the stream during on their journey. Dressed in a pale pink gown, her dark hair flowed past her shoulders in glossy waves to touch the small of her back. Her face was schooled into a bored expression, and she would have been pretty if not for the bruises, open cuts, and stitches decorating her body. Dean winced when the woman shifted her weight and he heard the clanking of chains. As she moved he caught a glimpse of the shackles around her ankles, attached to a chain that kept her rooted to the floor.

“Eyes over here, boys,” the king drawled. His heavily accented voice sent a shiver through the brothers, but Castiel stood with his face passive. “Meg had to be punished, but I figured I should pretty her up for the visitors.”

“You do know how to make a girl feel pretty, Crowley,” the woman said, rolling her one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. The king smirked at her before turning to the brothers again.

“Now, why don’t you boys tell me what you’re doing here, and why your friend over there is naked under his flasher trench coat?” Crowley ordered. Dean glanced at Cas and opened his mouth, but Sam stepped forward to speak.

“My name is Sam Winchester, and these are my brothers, Dean and Castiel,” Sam told him. “Dean and I were hunting for dinner when bandits attacked our camp.”

“I guess the bandits stole his clothes?” the woman drawled, a smirk blooming on her bruised face.

“Quiet,” Crowley snapped. He turned to Sam again and raised his eyebrows.

“We came to work for you. We heard you had a monster problem in your kingdom,” Sam said.

Meg snorted. “You and shorty over there sure you’re hunters?”

“Yes, Moose, are you and your brothers sure you can hunt for me?” Crowley asked. “I don’t like failure.”

“Sam and I can hunt just fine. We’ve been doing it our whole lives,” Dean snapped. Crowley raised an eyebrow at him.

“And the flasher over there?” he prompted.

“He’s…fragile,” Dean told them.

“And naked,” Meg added, her tongue poking out between her teeth. Castiel ignored the conversation and continued staring out the window, down into the sea.

“We can fix that easily enough,” Crowley said. “Let’s see if you boys have the stones for this job. There’s a vampire prowling around a few towns over. I want it.”

“Sure, we can kill a vampire,” Dean told him. “That’s no problem.”

“I don’t want you to kill it. I want you to bring it back here for me,” Crowley told them with a smirk. “Meg and I need a new toy.”

“You do know how to make a girl feel special, Crowley,” Meg said, her voice taking on a mocking accent. Her face broke out in an exaggerated smile as she turned to look at king. “That or you just want me to carve up something else instead of you.”

“What? A man can’t do both?” Crowley asked. Meg laughed, and Sam glanced nervously at Dean. “I’ll keep the flasher here until you get back. Don’t worry; I won’t chain him to the floor. Meg, find him some clothes.” The woman pointedly shook her foot, causing her chains to rattle, and Crowley sighed. “Go on boys. Shoo.” Dean gave the king a tight smile and nodded.

“Of course. Sammy and I will be right back with your vampire,” he said. Dean gave Meg a glance before turning to walk out the room with Sam.

“That was disgusting,” Sam said.

“Didja see the cuts and bruises on her, Sam? That guy probably tortured her and then dressed her all up like a doll. It’s sick,” Dean said.

“It looked like she wanted to give him as good as she got, though,” Sam pointed out. “And apparently we’re catching this vampire for him so she can torture it. Plus, we did watch her kill that guy.”

“This place is messed up,” Dean said as the two exited the castle. “I don’t like leaving Cas here.”

“He’ll be fine. He’ll be able to search for the other unicorns while we’re gone,” Sam responded.

“That doesn’t mean I like it,” Dean said as he swung up on one of the castle’s horses. Sam shrugged and mounted his own horse.

“We’ll just have to be fast and get back as soon as we can. We find out where Crowley is keeping the other unicorns, we free them, we find a way to change Cas back, and then we get the Hell out.” Sam fixed his weapon more comfortably on his back and tugged at the reigns.

“We can’t do it soon enough,” Dean told his brother as the two rode off down the path.

.

“There, now. You promise not to run away again?” Crowley asked as he undid the shackles from Meg’s ankles.

“No promises, pig,” she spat. The king only smiled and Meg whirled around and walked toward where Castiel was still staring at the window. “C’mon, Clarence, the king demands I find you some clothes to wear.” When he didn’t move, Meg waved her hand in front of his face. “Hey, featherbrain, are you in there? Wake up. What the heck are you staring at?”

“The sea,” Castiel answered. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll still be there after we get you dressed,” she snapped. “Now, come on. I think there are some clothes that’ll fit you in some closet somewhere, and I need to get out of this doll dress.”

“I think you look very nice,” Castiel said calmly, not looking away from the window. Meg grunted in frustration and grabbed the sleeve of his coat.

“Move, now,” Meg growled. She hauled him away from the window and began to tug him away from the throne room. He followed passively behind her, head bowed.

.

“That’s what they dressed you in?” Dean asked two weeks later when he and Sam returned from their hunt. The vampire had put up a struggle, but in the end they had brought him down and, using a makeshift cart, hauled him back to the castle and Crowley. The king had smirked and taken the monster down to the dungeon, leaving the brothers free until there was another monster that needed hunting.

“It is comfortable, Dean,” Castiel answered. He rubbed some of the fabric of his lose white shirt between his fingers. “They even match.”

“Yeah, the loose white pants and shirt with the trench coat looks great on you,” Dean said. “You look like a mental patient.”

“Meg assures me I do not,” Castiel said calmly. “She told me I looked like ‘a scruffy little angel’ and then laughed.”

“You do look like a scruffy little angel,” Meg said as she strode into the room. “Hiya, short stuff. You and your little brother bring me a present?”

“The king took it down to the dungeons,” Dean told her. She laughed when he looked away from her still-bruised face.

“Oh, goodie. A new toy is just what I need since I can’t get to Crowley yet.” Meg clapped her hands together and offered Dean a mocking smile. “Why, I feel just like a little girl on Christmas morning. Maybe he’ll even put a nice, big bow on it for me.”

“You are injured and should not be exerting yourself,” Castiel told her. “Or wearing such tight pants. They will irritate your injuries further.”

“Nah, feels kinda good,” Meg said. “Alive.” Dean looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She smirked back at him.

“Oh, please. If Crowley thinks a few months down in that dungeon can hurt me, he’s dumber than I thought.” Casually, Meg walked over to the chair opposite Castiel and sat down, putting her feet up on the table.

“I’ve been told it’s impolite to do that,” Castiel told her, looking pointedly at her shoes.

“Tell someone who gives a damn,” she shot back.

“You’ve been tortured before?” Dean asked.

“That’s how you learn, Deano.” Her face broke out in a grin. “Don’t look at me like that. That’s how you learned, too, I’ll bet.”

“How’d you guess?” he asked her. Meg’s smile got wider, and she pointed at the tiny brand scar on his shoulder.

“That’s Alastair’s work. I’ve got one, too. He and daddy liked to brand,” she told him. Stripping off her coat, Meg turned to show Dean her shoulder. A large scar, faded almost white, blended in with her pale flesh. It stretched from her shoulder down to her elbow, swirling in an intricate pattern. Other scars decorated both her arms and her neck, some round, others jagged and angry.

“Your own father did that to you?” Dean looked away, disgusted. Castiel continued to stare at her boots.

“Not all of ‘em. But like I said, how else was I supposed to learn? Learn by doing, as good old Uncle Alastair used to say.” Meg rolled her eyes when Dean didn’t answer. “I was born on that rack, and they day they took me off it and put a knife in my hand, it was like a religious experience. Pure.”

“That’s sick,” Dean said.

“That’s life, shorty.” Meg sighed as Castiel refused to lift his gaze from her shoes. “Alright, Clarence, I’ll take them off the table.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, turning his head to look at the ocean once more.

“Anyway, Dean, thank you for the present. You know, if you wanted to join me in having a little fun, I wouldn’t be opposed. You did catch it, after all.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and Dean wrinkled his nose. “No? Some other time then. You be good, Castiel. Oh, and Dean. Whatever you’re looking for, I’d check the library. It’s at the end of the hallway on the fourth floor, past the knife room. I’m not that stupid that I think you’re actually here to work for that dick.” Dean’s mouth fell open as she grabbed her jacked and sauntered out the door, slamming it behind her.

“Cas, did you tell her anything?” Dean shouted, whirling to face his friend. Castiel shook his head, not looking away from the water.

“No, but she did show me the library. I know how to collect honey now,” Castiel answered. “There is some in the kitchen. You should try it. Meg told me it was delicious. I searched the grounds with her, but I found no traces of my people.”

“Did you spend the time we were gone hanging out with her?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded.

“Yes. It was educational. We caught a fish together,” Castiel answered. He looked away from the window and straight at Dean. “She and I walked through nearly the whole castle together, and I could find no trace of unicorns here, either. It was a mistake to come here. I should have stayed.” His face fell. “I tried to heal her wounds. It did not work.”

“Bitch probably gets off on it,” Dean muttered. Castiel gave an almost-human sigh. “Look, Cas, we’ll find them, and when we find a way to change you back and save the others, you’ll get your healing abilities back. Then you can fix her up however you want before you go home.” Castiel grunted in response before pushing away from the table.

“Come. We should find Sam and then the library,” Castiel said calmly. “Meg obviously knows we’re looking for something, and there may be something there that will help us.” 


	4. Chapter 4

The following weeks went by in the same way. Dean and Sam left every few days to find a new creature that Crowely requested when news trickled through that there was a village being menaced. Castiel prowled the corridors with less and less purpose, and began to walk along the grounds or walls of the castle instead, meandering along the paths in the gardens. Often, he walked with Meg, spitting out facts from some new book he’d read in the library or picking flowers. He never commented on the fresh bruises or cuts that bloomed on her body every few days, and she didn’t offer any information. Once, he picked her flowers and sat in the garden, confused when she laughed in his face and walked back to the castle.

Meg slipped off the grounds of the castle once, and when she returned Castiel stayed with her in the sitting room Crowley had dumped her in, unable to use her legs for two days because of the torture.

“Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?” she asked when he wrapped bandages around the cuts on her legs. Castiel’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“I don’t know,” he answered. She smirked down at him and sighed as he finished.

“You need to carry me. I can’t walk and I want a bed,” she told him. Silently, Castiel slid his arms under her and lifted her up. “Hell, I hate feeling weak like this. The bastard really did a number on me this time.” Still silent, Castiel carried her up the stairs and gently laid her on her bed.

“I’ve read that ‘thank you’ is an appropriate response.” He stood next to the bed and stared down at her. Meg glared at him and slowly rolled onto her side. Castiel stared for a moment longer and sat down on the bed, facing the door.

.

“Dean? How do you court a woman?” Castiel asked, staring at the top of the table. Dean began to cough and his burger dropped onto his plate. Castiel ignored his choking and sighed. “The last book I read, the man courted the woman with flowers. When I tried to give Meg flowers, she laughed. I collected more honey for her, and she laughed at me again. It is…confusing.” Dean started to wheeze and Sam sprang out of his chair and began pounding his brother on the back.

“I think maybe Meg just doesn’t like flowers,” Sam said slowly. Castiel cocked his head to the side.

“Why would she not enjoy flowers? You can learn a lot.” Castiel nodded wisely.  “The other day in the garden, I followed a honeybee through the flowers, and-”

“Just don’t court Meg, Cas,” Dean said. Castiel’s eyes narrowed.

“Why not? She is very nice, and she cares for me when you and Sam are away,” Castiel said.

“She tortures things, Cas!” Dean shouted.

“Maybe I should try poetry,” Castiel continued, ignoring Dean. “Sam, do women like poetry?”

“In general, yes,” Sam answered as he sat back down.

“Are you two just gonna ignore me?” Dean asked, glaring at Sam.

“Yes,” Castiel said bluntly. “What Meg enjoys is what Meg enjoys. You two kill monsters. Although I cannot remember it, as your brother, I am sure I have killed monsters. That does not make us bad people.”

“Crowley and Meg _are_ bad people, Cas,” Dean argued. “Remember why we came here? He has the unicorns, Cas. I know he does. We just have to find out where he’s keeping them. And Meg is probably helping him.”

“Meg wants Crowley dead, Dean,” Castiel told his friend. “Why do you keep talking about unicorns?” Dean’s eyes went wide, and he looked at Sam.

“Cas, why don’t you go try some poetry? She might like it,” Sam said quietly. Castiel wrinkled his eyebrows and looked at both of them before slipping silently out of the room.

“He doesn’t remember, Sammy. This is bad,” Dean whispered.

“Maybe not, Dean,” Sam said, placing a book on the table and flipping it open. “I mean, think about it, maybe Meg knows something. Eventually she could slip up and tell him, and we’d know where to find the unicorns.”

“But if he doesn’t know he’s a unicorn, how can he save them?” Dean asked. Sam shook his head.

“Look, we don’t even know why he changed into a human in the first place. All we know is that something changed him so he wouldn’t be caught by the red smoke,” Sam said slowly. “Maybe that something will change him back. I mean, even if he forgets, it’s not like he can be completely human, right? A unicorn is still a unicorn, no matter what skin it’s in.”

“Yeah, but Meg? Sam, she likes to torture things for fun. Do you think it’s safe for him to be around her like he is?” Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“She doesn’t seem to want to hurt him, Dean. If anything, I think she finds him kind of amusing.” Sam sighed and closed the book. “She wants to kill Crowley, anyway. I know that, and you know that, and even Crowley knows it. I don’t know why he even keeps her here if he knows that.”

“He’s tortured her, too,” Dean pointed out. Sam shrugged and put a different book onto the table. Dean raised his eyebrows. “Fairytales, Sam?”

“I have a theory.” Sam opened the book and began flipping through the pages. “This whole thing so far is following the pattern of a fairytale. You know, Cas being the last of his kind, going on a quest, meeting up with two sidekicks, and now landing in the lap of the evil king? It follows the pattern of a fairytale almost perfectly.”

“That’s why you’re not worried about him? Because you think this will all work out like in a story?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I mean, this is why we should let him court her, or whatever he’s trying to do,” Sam explained. “He falls in love with the princess, and then they defeat the evil king, and the day is saved. I mean, in the more modern ones, anyway. In the older ones it might not turn out as happy, but the evil kings never win in the end.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Sammy, this is real life. Not a book.”

“Dean, we hunt vampires and werewolves and all other kinds of creatures,” Sam said. “To most people, those belong in fairytales. Our lives aren’t exactly normal.”

“It’s still a bit too messed up, Sam,” Dean countered. “So, what, Meg’s the princess and Cas is the big, handsome prince that saves her? That seems a little out there.”

“Well, Meg _is_ a princess. Lucifer was the king until Crowley killed him and decided to keep her as a pet. If he dies, she becomes queen,” Sam pointed out. “Look, all I’m saying is that maybe we should let this pan out. If I’m right, it’ll work out like it’s supposed to.”

“Yeah, and if you’re wrong?” Dean asked.

“We’ll probably all die,” Sam told him. Dean groaned.

.

“Clarence? What is that?”

“I wrote you a poem. I’ve been told that women like poetry,” Castiel answered, holding out a piece of paper toward her. Meg cocked her eyebrow.

“I don’t like poetry. Put up or shut up,” she said. Castiel’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and he nudged the paper against her hand. Meg rolled her eyes and took it from him, tucking it in the pocket of her jacket. “I’ll read it later.”

“Why do you call me Clarence?” he asked.

“Those boys didn’t teach you anything, did they?” Meg shook her head and started walking toward the library. “Come on, then.” When they reached the library, Meg climbed up onto a chair and felt around on top of a shelf before swinging down, a frayed book clutched in her hand. She strode over to Castiel and placed it in his lap.

“Fairytales?” he asked her. She nodded.

“Page thirty. My mother used to read it to me,” she told him. Castiel thumbed through the book and began reading. “Out loud, Clarence.” As Castiel began to read, she sank to the floor in front of him, legs tucked under her. When he finished, Castiel closed the book and looked down at her.

“I still don’t understand.” Meg rolled her eyes at him.

“Clarence is an angel, Cas,” she said quietly. “He saved the man from dying and helped him find his family again.”

“So I remind you of an angel?” Castiel asked. Meg nodded.

“A scruffy angel, but an angel,” she answered. “You look all…innocent.” Meg reached up from the floor and placed her hands on his knees. Slowly, she leaned her head up to his and kissed him softly.

When she pulled away, Castiel stood up, pulling her with him. The old book fell to the floor with a thump as he whirled her around and pushed her against the wall. She raised her head again and he kissed her, pressing her back onto the stone.

“What was that?” she asked him when he pulled away.

“I read it in a book,” he answered calmly. Meg laughed against him.

“Someone’s been in my erotica, I’d guess.” She pushed herself away from the wall and pressed closer to him. “You really are the picture of innocence. I feel so…clean.”

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” Castiel told her. Meg laughed and kissed him again.

.

Crowley frowned when Meg began to laugh as he made a long cut across her stomach. “You’re supposed to scream, sweetheart,” he told her, wiping the blood off the scalpel.

“Sorry, your highness, I didn’t realize I was supposed to scream from something like that.” Meg spat a glob of blood and phlegm at him, smiling wide when his frown deepened.

“Tell me, Meg, where did you run off to this time?” he asked casually as he selected another blade. Meg winced as Crowley dipped the blade in water and rubbed it with salt before he walked back over to her.

“Oh, nowhere,” she answered, tone just as casual. “Just for a little ride. I needed to get a little something.”

“A present for your new sweetheart?” Crowley slowly dug the blade into the cut he’d made earlier, laughing when Meg let out a grunt.

“Castiel deserves something nice, cooped up in here all the time while you send the boys out hunting.”  Meg focused on the ceiling and concentrated on breathing as Crowley continued to work the blade into her cut. She bit back a scream as he suddenly twisted it. _Father did worse, and I survived that,_ she reminded herself. _This is nothing. This is child’s play. When I tie him to this rack I’m gonna make him scream until they can hear him all the way from the top tower._

“This is the third time you’ve wandered this month, Meg,” Crowley reminded her. Meg pushed her teeth together and closed her eyes as he continued to twist the blade around. “You can’t like him that much to be going out to get him presents. Tell me, who are you looking for? Loyalists to your father? Your grandfather? Azazel and Lucifer have been dead for years, and I was sure I’d hunted down the loyalists years ago.” He paused and pulled the knife out of her before plunging it in again, causing Meg to let out a short scream. “Ah, there we go.”

“There are _no more loyalists_. You just said so. I’m on my own when it comes to that,” Meg spat at him. She grunted when he removed the knife. “I’m gonna kill you, you smarmy bastard.”

“We’ll just see about that, you whore.” Crowley set the knife down and selected a thin nail from the table next to him. “I could kill you right now, if I wanted. All tied down like this. I could do anything.”

“So that’s why you’ve kept me around all these years. That’s a little naughty, your highness,” Meg said.

“But I feel like that might upset your boy toy, and that would be…unfortunate,” he continued. “Those brothers of his are so good at catching creatures for me to play with and interrogate, and, of course, I know what he is. I just have to wait him out. Although, he does seem to like you, so if I hurt you enough, he might just show his true colors.”

“I doubt it,” Meg told him. “He doesn’t remember himself. He doesn’t remember anything from before he came here. He thinks he was actually attacked by bandits, and that the trauma shut down his memories. He’s human now.” Meg smiled. “A monster who’s a human, and who cares for little old me. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Oh, you haven’t been a real bad girl and told them everything, have you, Meg?” Crowley asked and he began to drive the nail into her arm, joining it with the others he had driven into her earlier.

“I don’t even know everything, Crowley,” she told him. “Besides, I don’t really _care_ what you’re doing. I just want you dead.”

“Always so eloquent,” Crowley commented, stepping back and admiring his work. He sighed and picked up the knife from before, grabbing a cloth to clean it. “Now, I’m going to let you out. You did come back on your own this time, so I’ll be lenient with your punishment.”

“Thank you oh-so-much.”  Meg winced when Crowley undid the straps that held her to the table. “You gonna give me the first aid kit so I can stitch myself up, or do I just have to drip all over the stairs?”

“You know where it is,” Crowley answered. He sighed and began to pack up his tools. “The boys brought in something new today, so try not to overexert yourself with your boy toy tonight. I might toss the scraps to you when I’m done.”

 “So generous,” Meg mumbled as she swung herself off the table. Wincing, she limped past the chair that held her neatly-folded clothes and reached for the kit of medical supplies that sat in a small niche in the wall. 

She’d finally found what she’d been searching for. She hadn’t been dumb enough to bring it back to the castle right away. Instead, her new weapon was tucked away in a safe spot a few miles down the road, waiting for her to slip out and get it whenever she could.

Crowley couldn’t be killed by conventional means. Oh, she’d tried over the years. Nothing, from poisons to swords to arrows, had been able to kill him, or even injure him much. He’d laughed off every assassination attempt and punished her soundly for it, only stopping short of removing body parts.

But her new weapon, Meg had heard, could kill anything. She’d searched and searched for it for years, always one step behind it when Crowley had found her and hauled her back to the castle to torture her for leaving.

Meg smiled to herself as she began to pull the nails from her arm, grunting in pain as she did so. As Meg removed the last nail and began to stitch her wounds, she let a bloody smile bloom on her face. She would avenge her father, and she would take the throne. She would torture Crowley for years before she finally killed him down in this dank little dungeon, right where he belonged.

.

“So, look who got back,” Meg said cheerfully as she strode into the kitchen. Dean scowled and continued to patch up Sam, who was wincing as Dean ran the needle through his skin. Wordlessly, Meg walked over to the cupboard and set a bottle of disinfectant down in front of them. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” Sam asked through gritted teeth.

Meg smiled. “Crowley knows about Castiel.” Dean’s eyes flew open, and Sam yelped when his brother yanked on the needle.

“What? How did he know? How do you know?” Dean shouted, standing up so fast he knocked over his chair. Meg smiled and casually leaned back in hers, throwing her bare feet up on the table.

“I don’t know what he is; just that he’s not human. But Crowley definitely knows what he is, even if he’s not telling,” she said slowly. “You can tell by the way he walks around this place. He doesn’t know anything about being human, and the way he _talks_.” Meg shook her head. “Crowley can’t be killed by just anything. I’ve tried quite a few times. He’s feeding off something that’s making him invulnerable. He killed my father over ten years ago and he still looks the same as he did then. He hasn’t aged a day. At first I thought he was feeding off those things you brought in for him somehow, but he’s not. He’s just torturing them for information.”

“Information on what?” Sam asked.

Meg shrugged. “Most of ‘em don’t come from here, and he wants to expand his little Hell. Personally, I’d like to do that, too, if I was queen. But he killed off everyone who was loyal to my father and grandfather, so I don’t have any support to start a rebellion. There’s just me left. Question is, what is he feeding off of? I think the two of you know, and it’s time you clued me into the loop.”

“We don’t have to clue you into anything,” Dean growled.

“It’s my ass on the line, too,” she snapped. “It’s been my ass on the line for years. He may not be as adept at torturing as my family was, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck to be down there every couple of months.” Meg drew in a deep breath and blew it out again. “Once he figures out what to do with Castiel, he’ll take him and use him for whatever it is he’s doing.”

“Why do you care?” Dean asked her.

“I don’t,” Meg lied. “I want Crowley dead, and anything that makes him more powerful is a threat. I assume you two didn’t come here to play errand boys for him, either. You’re here for a reason, and that reason is probably something to do with Cas. So, you tell me what you know, and I tell you what I know.” Sam glanced at Dean and picked up the needle from where it was dangling to stitch himself up.

“He’s a unicorn,” Sam told her. “The last unicorn. The others are gone, and we came here to find them.”

“Then how did he get turned into a human? Last time I checked, unicorns can’t do half the things he does,” Meg asked.

“We don’t really know,” Dean mumbled. “We were out in the field and got attacked by this cloud of red smoke, and there was this light, and then Cas was just there, all naked and confused, and the smoke was gone.”

“So, you two think Crowley has the other unicorns?”

“Somewhere. We’ve been searching every spare moment, but the hunts are getting farther and farther away. He knows.” Dean ran his hand over his face and grunted. “Your turn.”

“I have a sword that can kill him,” Meg announced. Sam dropped his needle again in surprise and Meg smirked at them. “It took me years to find it, and the last time I managed to slip out I finally got my hands on it. All I need is you two to help me get him. He expects me to try to kill him now.”

“Probably because you keep threatening to kill him,” Dean pointed out.

“Yeah, that might have clued him in,” Meg agreed. “My sword is hidden a couple of miles from here. As soon as I heal up from Crowley’s last playtime with me, I’ll go fetch it. Don’t even think about suggesting that you two go and get it. It’s mine.” Meg got to her feet with a grunt, clutching her stomach. “Castiel should still be taking his afternoon nap. After I get cleaned up, I’ll go find him. He shouldn’t be alone with Crowley skulking about, trying to catch him.”

“We’ll stay with him,” Dean spat at her. “I think you’ve corrupted him enough already.”

“Dean-” Sam began to protest.

“Look,” Meg interrupted. “If I’m with him, you two can look for the unicorns before Crowley sends you out again. He doesn’t remember anymore, and it’s safer that way. I’ve got no idea what to look for, either. I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen anything that looks like one.”

“Dean, she’s right,” Sam agreed, picking up his needle once again. “We should get cleaned up, too.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sammy. The blood looks good on you,” Meg told him, winking. She laughed when Dean glared at her before sauntering out the room.

.

Finally following Castiel’s advice, Meg dressed herself in loose pants and a loose shirt instead of her usual tight-fitting clothes, so her wounds wouldn’t rub against the fabric. The one on her stomach still burned from the salt, and she didn’t want to accidentally pop a stich and give Castiel a reason to worry. Fingering the loose material of the fabric, she turned the corner and headed toward Castiel’s room, stopping when she saw him standing in the hallway. Barefoot and staring at the sea, he ignored her when she whistled at him.

“Clarence? You in there?” Meg waved her hand in front of his face and only lowered it when he finally turned to look at her.

“Are you real?” he whispered, unblinking eyes staring straight at her. Meg sighed and ran a hand through her own hair.

“Bad dream, huh?” she asked.

“When I sleep, I see things, Meg,” he told her. “A forest, lit by the sun, and I feel warm and happy. I hear voices calling me as I stop by the edge of a meadow, but when I try to find them, they stop. I see a flash of light, and a cloud of red smoke blotting out the moon. A pale woman with red hair and a crown of withered flowers tells me to run, and-“

“Stop it, Cas,” Meg snapped. “If you don’t talk about it, or think about it, it won’t bother you so much.” He hung his head, and Meg sighed softly. “Come with me. I found a beehive outside the south tower, and I know you like bees.”

“Yes, I like to watch the bees,” he said to her, voice taking on a note of confusion, as if he was unsure if that were true.

“You do like to watch the bees, Castiel,” Meg told him, reaching out and softly taking his hand. “Come with me.”

“The blue looks nice on you,” he complimented. “Like the sky.”

“Or the ocean you’re so fond of,” she teased, tugging him a little harder. Castiel finally followed her, and Meg smiled when he began rambling about beehives.

.

In the following weeks, Meg healed frustratingly slow. Every time her wounds itched, she reminded herself that she just had to be patient, just had to wait a little bit longer, and she would be the one torturing Crowley down in the dungeons, making him scream for her.

Dean and Sam seemed to have finally brought Crowley enough monsters that he was occupied most of the day. The screams of the creatures he tortured echoed through the castle, driving Castiel away from it more and more. He went on walks with Dean and Sam around the grounds or along the outer walls, or walked to the farthest corners of the castle with Meg, kissing her in the dusty, cobwebbed halls until his lips felt swollen from the contact.

Every few nights, he stood at his window and spotted a cloud of red smoke rise from the bowels of the castle and spread out into the night. On those days he had dreams that haunted him. He walked through a sunlit wood on four legs instead of two, and around him voices seemed to call to him to come home.

Sam helped him through difficult books in the library, and though Meg had rejected much of his poetry, he still asked for Sam to help him rhyme some words, hoping to impress her.

“You don’t have to give me these, Clarence,” she told him one sunny afternoon as they sat in a patch of flowers just outside the castle’s gates. For a moment he felt a twinge of sadness as he stared at the sunlit patch of grass, but shook it off when Meg nudged. “You hear me? You don’t have to bother with this romantic crap.”

“I like poetry,” he said. Meg shook her head at him.

“Hey, I’m going to kill Crowley soon.” Meg lay back on the grass and folded her hands behind her head. “I’ll be a queen.”

“I’m pleased for you,” Castiel said. Meg grabbed his trench coat and tugged him down until he was lying on the grass with her.

“I’ll need a king,” she whispered. “You wanna be my king, Clarence?”

“I’d like to stay here very much,” he answered.


	5. Chapter 5

The weeks bled into months in Crowley’s castle. Winter descended upon the land and went again, bringing a false spring that made the land seem poorer for it. The fruit that bloomed on the trees in the garden tasted bitter and held a hint of sulfur. The grass appeared healthy, but crunched like autumn leaves under his feet, brittle and dead.

Meg shrugged and told him it had been that way ever since Crowley had killed her father and her king. He tried to follow her advice and block out his dreams, ignoring them when the sunlight filtered through his windows. He buried himself in the library or among the wrinkled flowers in the garden.

Still, Castiel dreamed.

He found himself in a wood in the middle of spring, the leaves shining in the sunlight like they never did during the deep winter of Crowley’s kingdom. He walked, taking in the rich colors and smells as if it was the first true spring he had ever seen. But when he reached to touch the leaves of the bushes they wilted under his touch, turning black and falling away.

He ran down the path clumsily, the forest melting around him, until he reached a sunlit meadow. He stopped at the edge of the trees, leaning against the blackening bark while his coat hung from his frame. A woman stood in the middle of the meadow, a blazing red gown whipping around her body from an invisible wind. Her hair, the same color as her gown, glowed in the sunlight. A crown of withered flowers rested on the burning tresses, drifting to the ground in the wind.

She opened her mouth and tried to scream at him, causing the wind to whip harder through the meadow. No voice came from her throat and she ran toward him, her face full of fear as she tried to scream.

He ran from her, tripping over the weeds that blasted through his path, sharp as stones. They clawed at his legs as the woman chased him, opening cuts and spilling his blood over the dirt. Reaching the end of the path, he finally turned to face her, hands curling into fists the way Sam and Dean had taught him.

She smiled at him then, life returning to the crown on her head. The woman took a step forward, her dress trailing on the ground and smearing his blood along the path. She raised her pale hand to his face and made to touch him.

Castiel awoke in his bed, clutching the sheets. He untangled himself silently and crept from the room, his footsteps echoing on the stone. He passed through the shadows until he reached Meg’s chambers and slipped inside as quietly as he could.

“What are you doing awake?” she asked. Naked, with her sheets draped across her lower half and a book on her lap, she stared at him. “Clarence?”

“My dreams are troubling me again,” he told her, climbing into the bed. She placed her book on the floor and pulled back the sheet for him. Castiel slid between them and pulled her to his body, burying his face in her dark hair. “I cannot forget them, as much as I try.”

“I’m not gonna try to chase away all the monsters in your head. That’s your brother’s job, remember?” Meg grumbled. Instead of answering, Castiel stroked her bare arm, gently swirling his fingers around the snow-white scars that marred her body.

“You are very beautiful,” he breathed. She squirmed in his grasp.

“Enough with the sappy crap, Castiel. It’s late. Either put out or go to sleep,” she mumbled. He pulled her closer to him and drew the sheet up so they were both covered. Peace fell over him like a warm summer rain, settling in his bones and chasing the images of the red haired woman from his mind.

Despite Meg insisting that she was not there to chase his dreams away, he found his head was quieter when he was with her. His dreams of sunlit meadows and iron bars melted away, replaced by visions of the Winchesters, Meg, and himself spending time together, traveling on dusty roads or laughing in the castle kitchens.

He dreamed of the four of them in a forest he could half remember, cooking together and moving through the trees while others moved with them. Visions of Meg replaced his visions of the red-haired woman with her crown of flowers. Instead, he saw her in a flowing white gown, standing before Crowley’s throne in the great hall of the castle with a crown resting on her curls. In his dreams he walked toward her as she held her hands out for him, a smile on her face, but every night he woke before they joined.

But every morning when he woke up beside Meg, her face peaceful in sleep, he forgot about the ending of his dream.

.

Castiel stood at the top of the south tower, his head in his hands as he stared out across the water. Meg had left a few days ago, promising to be back soon, and he had slipped away from Sam and Dean, needing a moment alone.

After Meg had asked him to be her king, Castiel had holed up in the library with Sam and Dean. It was nearly impossible for the screams to reach the quiet room, and Castiel had taken to reading books on the kingdom’s history to prepare himself while Sam and Dean continued to study the books on magic Meg had found for them, tucked away behind other boring, dusty tomes.

He had taken to standing at the top of the south tower every day, watching the road for Meg. Crowley had only smiled when he discovered her gone, but the night before Castiel had caught the man sharpening knives.

“Look who got left all alone,” Crowely drawled, walking up behind Castiel. The man didn’t flinch or turn when he heard the king’s voice, and stared straight ahead. “Meg’s run off again,” the king continued, “I’ve been thinking of how I should punish her when she gets back. I suppose I was a bit too lenient last time, letting her go like that.” Crowley let out a theatrical sigh, and then smirked when he spotted Meg walking calmly down the path toward the castle, head held high. “Ah, she’s even come home on her own again. Maybe she is learning. Still, mustn’t be too soft on her. Or she’ll think she can get away with anything.”

“Leave her be,” Castiel said calmly, not moving from his spot on the wall. Crowley barked out a laugh.

“How funny, something like you caring for something like her.” Crowley laughed again and walked to stand next to Castiel. “Fine, I’ll leave her be for now. There are more interesting things going on here, anyway. Tell me, how did you do it? I was so sure I had you in that field, and then you just pinged off my radar, only to be dropped right into my lap.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Castiel answered.

“No? Then why are you always staring at the sea?” Crowley asked. “Don’t tell me you can’t see them in there, trapped by me, floating in and out with the tides?” Crowley’s eyes shone with pride as he looked down at the sea himself. “I brought them here, one by one, after I killed Azazel and Lucifer. I wanted immortality, and I found a way to get it. Consume one every few years, and soon you’ll be immortal. Meg tried to kill me with anything she could, but I consumed their flesh and my wounds healed. It amused me, for a while. Her pitifully attempts at rebellion still do.” Crowley laughed again. “I drove them here, to the only cage that could hold all of them, and now they’re all here whenever I need them. As soon as I figure out how to make you change back, I’ll hurl you down to the others, too.”

“I don’t understand,” Castiel said, finally turning to face Crowley. “I don’t see anything in the water.”

“Isn’t that delightful,” Crowley drawled. “You’ve completely forgotten who you were. You’ve fallen in love with that idiot girl and now you can’t remember.” The king smirked and turned back around. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get you eventually, just like I got the others. You can have her until then, if that amuses you.” Castiel watched the king stride away and turned back to watch Meg as she reached the castle gates and slipped inside.

“I can’t believe he just told you all of that,” Dean grunted as he walked through the door to stand next to Castiel. “But now we know where he has them. We just have to figure out how to free them.” When Castiel didn’t answer, Dean sighed. “Sam will figure out what the smoke stuff is so we can get rid of it, and everything’ll be back to normal. Just you wait.”

Without saying a word, Castiel walked back into the castle to look for Meg.

.

Meg strolled into the kitchen with her head held high, a wide smile on her face. “Guess what I got, boys?”

“You found it?” Dean asked. “Let’s see it then.”

Smiling wider, Meg reached into her jacket and gently laid a sword on the table, caressing the length of it with her finger. The color blood just beginning to rust, it gleamed in the faint torchlight of the quiet kitchen. The sword, a twisted, tapering mass of what could not be metal, seemed to hum with its own internal power. The smell of rain filled the kitchen.

“It looks like a horn,” Sam commented, reaching for it. Meg smacked him away, glaring.

“It’s mine. I suffered for this thing,” she snapped. “It even smells like magic. It can definitely kill him.”

“It smells like magic, but it doesn’t look like metal,” Dean said. “What’s it made out of?”

Meg shrugged. “Dunno. Don’t care, either. It could be made of solid shit I wouldn’t give a fuck, as long as it kills Crowley.”

“Then we just have to find a way to stop the red smoke and free the unicorns,” Sam said. He pulled Ruby’s knife from his jacket. “This could hurt him, right? Maybe not kill him, but it is magic.”

“Who knows? The bastard’s practically invincible. But the red smoke is easy.” Meg waved her hand in the air. “Kill him and it goes.”

“What?” Dean grunted.

Meg rolled her eyes. “It’s him. _He’s_ the red smoke. His mommy was a witch, and she taught him a few things. It’s his soul or his power or whatever, all rolled up into one, evil little package. It’s how he finds me so quick. How he knows what’s going on in all the different parts of the kingdom.”

“It makes sense, if we’re going by fairytale logic,” Sam pointed out.

“What drugs did you take, Winchester?” Meg asked.

“You don’t need to know,” Dean snapped.

Meg’s face twitched and pushed her teeth together. “Fine. How about we just figure out how to do this thing?”

“It has to be soon. He knows what Castiel is, even if he doesn’t remember himself. He’ll get impatient and drag him down to those dungeons or wherever he has the others,” Sam said, running his fingers over the tabletop.

“Then we get Clarence out. Simple,” Meg told them. “Put him in a safe place; kill Crowley, the other virgin-fetish horses go free, and then I become queen.”

“How are we going to get him out? Crowley has guards at every door out of here,” Dean asked her.

Meg smirked. “Oh, Deano. There are ways out of here that nobody else knows about, not even Crowley. How do you think I keep getting away? We just take him out through one of those.”

“We gonna do it tonight? Slip him out of here and take down the king?”

“Sure, Dean. Then you two can go on your merry way.” Meg took a deep breath. “Or stay here and work for me, if you want. The three of you. Castiel stays regardless.”

“He’s gonna change back, and we’re going back to our people,” Dean said angrily.

“Castiel and I are engaged. He stays here,” Meg said, her voice taking on a mocking tone. “He’s mine.”

“You wanna marry a unicorn?” Dean spat. His face twisted with disgust. “That’s not healthy.”

“He’s a human now,” Meg pointed out. “You said so yourselves that he doesn’t know how he changed. He doesn’t remember anything else. There’s no guarantee he’ll change back. If he does, he can go. I’m not going to marry a horse. If he doesn’t then he stays. Either way, I’m going to be queen.”

Dean opened his mouth to reply when Meg spotted a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she spotted a servant rushing away. “Well, that puts a damper on things. We need to go now.”

“Dean, where’d you leave Castiel?” Sam asked as he pushed away from the table.

“The library.”

Meg grabbed her sword from the table and stowed it back in her jacket. “I’ll go get him. Meet me in the hallway that leads down to the dungeons.”

“We’ll go get him,” Dean growled.

“I can get there quicker,” Meg argued. Without waiting for an answer she ran to the other side of the kitchen and opened a hidden doorway. “You all still don’t know your way through the castle very well.”

Meg raced through the walls of the castle, dodging around the servants that scurried through the passageways. She shoved them aside, not caring if they ran back to report to Crowley what was happening.

Castiel jumped when she slipped through another hidden door and into the library. “Meg? Is something wrong?”

“We’re getting out of here,” she told him. She hauled Castiel out of his chair and toward the passageway. “Sam and Dean are waiting for us. We’re doing Crowley in tonight.”

“Then I will go with you.”

“You’ll be safer somewhere else,” she argued. Glancing out the window, Meg saw Crowley standing on the beach just at the edge of the water. He looked up at her and smirked, pointing to her and Castiel before crooking his finger to order them down. “Or it looks like you might have to come with us. We can’t leave you alone in here. The servants might grab you. Come on.”

“Meg, what are you talking about?” She ignored him and tugged Castiel through the passageway by his coat. The dusty corridors were silent, devoid of even the soft sounds of the servants running through them. “Meg, explain what is going on.”

“Later,” she whispered, sprinting down the stairs. Meg pulled him through another door and led into a dining hall and dashed across it, ignoring the way the guard’s eyes followed them. Castiel was clumsy behind her, feet catching on the rugs and uneven stones of the hall.

She pulled him behind a tapestry and led him deeper into the castle. The hallways narrowed until the stone scraped at their sides, re-opening several wounds on Meg’s arms. Her jacket clung to her with blood, the smell invading the passage.

He stopped protesting when Meg led him through another opening, so low to the ground that she had to crawl through. His larger body barely fit through the hole near the floor, and Meg had to pull him through the rest of the way.

“Jesus! Where did you two come from?” Dean yelped as Castiel stood up. Meg smirked and brushed the dust from his hair. He leaned into her hands and lightly dusted the cobwebs from her shoulders.

“I told you, there’s a lot of hidden shit here,” Meg answered. “Crowley’s out there and he knows. That little servant told him.” Meg’s eyes filled with anger. “I’ll kill her, I swear. But it looks like you two might have been right after all. Clarence here might have to change, or he’ll get him. He’s ready for us.”

Five guards walked into the room and faced them, hands on their swords. Castiel moved in front of Meg, drawing her behind him. “We need to go now,” he said calmly.

“I’m all for fleeing,” Meg agreed. Grabbing his hand, she turned and ran through the doorway that led to the dungeons. “C’mon, Winchesters. Move your asses!” The guards pounded down the stairs after them as Meg pulled them through the dungeons, searching frantically for her favorite hidden passage. Sam and Dean sprinted after her, trying to ignore the locked, rusty-looking doors and chains that dangled from the ceiling like snakes.

“In here,” Meg called, pushing open a door with her shoulder, pressing it closed again and shoving the bar in place once Sam and Dean skidded into the room behind her. Meg grabbed the rack in the middle of the room, running her hands over it almost lovingly before she began to pull it out of the way. “Dean, grab the other end. It’ll be faster.”

The metal scraped against the stone as they shifted it, revealing dark passageway. Dean could see the top of a grime-covered rope ladder in the torchlight of the cell, the slime recently smudged by fingers. Meg dropped down into the hole without hesitation, the rope ladder swinging away from the wall. “It’s just a straight-shot down, and then one more passage before we’re out,” she called up. “C’mon, Clarence. It’s easy.”

“If you say so,” Castiel grumbled, grabbing the rungs of the ladder and delicately lowering himself down. Dean watched as he moved clumsily, so unlike the graceful way he had had been a unicorn. As Dean lowered himself into the hole, he thought Castiel looked more mortal than any of them.

Darkness pressed in on them like a living creatures, forcing their shoulders to hunch as they moved through the passageway. Too small for them to walk side by side, they followed Meg, each holding onto the shoulder of the person in front of them. Dean felt Sam hand him Ruby’s knife. “Guard our backs.”

Dean nodded in the darkness. Their footsteps echoed around the chamber and the four were silent until Meg cursed loudly. “There’s a light around here somewhere. Let me look.” The scrape of nails on stone rang throughout the chamber, and she cursed again.

Dean blinked when light suddenly flooded the chamber and saw Meg holding a lit torch. “Found it. I can usually get through here on my own, but there’s something off here now.”

“Magic,” Sam breathed. “Can’t you smell it? It usually smells like rain, but here it smells more like, I don’t know-”

“It smells like something’s rotting down here,” Meg interrupted. “There are some places up ahead where the light comes through the ceiling, but it’s kinda far off. Anyway, once we get there we’ll almost be out.” She began to move again, and Castiel stayed so close to her that he stepped on the backs of her feet.

Sam and Dean stayed close together, watching Meg and Castiel’s dark heads move down the passageway. Her skin glowed in the faint light, the scars exposed to the air snow-white and ugly. Castiel rubbed his thumb over one on her neck, and for a moment it vanished before blooming again on her skin. Neither of them noticed, but Sam nudged Dean and pointed with his chin.

“He’ll change,” Sam whispered. “Look, he’s walking easier now, and he just healed her a little. It’s time.”

“Guess he does have to face Crowley,” Dean grunted.

Meg glared at Dean over her shoulder. “We’re here.” She opened another stone door and put out the torch. Light filtered through the opening and flooded the narrow hallway. Behind them the darkness seemed to press forward, urging them out of the passage and into the light.

The chamber they stepped into rose far above their heads, the stone smooth and worn away by the water. Large holes dotted the ceiling, allowing the light to pour through. The smell of the sea rolled through them, clinging to the salt-crusted place like a spider web. Sand lined the floor, and a large, natural door led to the shore outside the palace.

“This is it,” Dean breathed. “He’ll change now. We go to face Crowley and Castiel becomes a unicorn again.”

Castiel froze next to Meg, staring warily at the cave’s exit. “No.”

“Cas, you have to!” Dean snapped. Castiel took a step back and pressed close to Meg, taking her hand.

“I don’t do that anymore,” Castiel answered. “I’m not a unicorn anymore. I am human. I watch the bees and the flowers, and read with Meg, and walk with you two along the walls of the castle. I won’t do it. I want to stay here. I want to stay like this.”

“And do what? Let Crowley feed off the unicorns until they all wither away and die? You want to stay here and play lover boy to a woman who’s been raised by monsters her whole life? Cas, if you don’t go out there and do this, if you don’t fight for them, that’s what will happen. You’ll spend your whole life here and you’ll grow old and you’ll die, and there won’t be any unicorns in the world ever again.”

“The world will be alright, and I will stay here,” Castiel said firmly. He glanced at Meg and smiled. “She will take care of me. She will kill Crowley and become queen, like she’s always wanted, and I will watch the bees, and you two will stay here, and everything will be alright.” Dean opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it closed again when Meg yanked her hand out of Castiel’s grasp and stepped away from him.

“No, Clarence. That isn’t what’s going to happen,” she told him. “We are going to go out there, and we are going to save the unicorns. And before you boys get any ideas, I’m not doing this for the greater good of the world. I’m doing it because it’ll piss of Crowley, and I wanna see the look on his face when he finds out I’m going to fuck everything up for him.” She took Castiel’s hand again and gently added, “Afterward, we can watch the bees, if you want.”

“No,” Castiel said. “If I go out there, I will change, and I will not love you anymore. I won’t be able to.”

Meg smirked. “We’ll see what happens.” Castiel didn’t reply, and walked down the path, his hand slipping from hers. She rolled her eyes and walked after him.

“She loves him,” Sam told Dean as they followed the pair down the path. The older man grunted.

“It’s wrong, Sammy. He’s a unicorn! He’s not even human. And she’s a murderer. A monster,” Dean replied.

“He’s human now, in every way that matters,” Sam said. “He can feel love and fear. I don’t know if he could change back now.”

“He better be able to, or we went through all this for a big, steaming pile of nothing,” Dean said fiercely.

“Dean, they’re in love. He doesn’t want to change, and she wants him to stay with her.” Sam closed his eyes and groaned. “It’s the fairy tale. He’s the hero, and she’s the princess.”

“Looks more like the other way around.” Dean sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “So, does that mean they’ll stay together? That Cas will just walk out of here with her, she’ll kill Crowley, and the two of them will pop out some hellspawn and live happily ever after?”

“No,” Sam told him. “Remember when I told you that original fairy tales were cautionary stories?”

“Yeah, so?” Dean asked.

“In the original fairy tales, not everybody got a happily ever after.”

“So Cas will fight, and he and Meg won’t stay together, and someone’s going to die?” Dean smiled. “Doesn’t sound that bad, Sammy. I hope it isn’t us.” Castiel suddenly stopped and turned around.

“It’s here,” he said calmly. Meg took his hand and her sword slid from her sleeve. Castiel turned around again, and the two of them stood together at the mouth of the cave. The smell of the sea air hit them, and when Castiel still hesitated to step forward, Meg moved and tugged him with her, head held high.

“Come on, Winchesters,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s go kill the big, bad wolf.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sam and Dean silently followed the pair out of the cave and onto the beach, feet sinking softly into the sand. Meg’s hand gripped her sword tighter when they saw Crowley standing at the edge of the eerily calm ocean. Meg and Castiel silently stood in front of him, hands clasped. The brothers slowly walked to stand next to Castiel, Dean casually putting his hands in the pocket of his coat.

“So that’s what you’ve been looking for,” the king said calmly when he saw the sword she was clutching.

“I figured there was something out there that could kill you, Crowley. Just took me a little while to find it.” Meg smirked at him and casually tapped the point of the sword against her lips. “I’m just disappointed that I have to kill you now instead of putting you up on that rack like you used to do to me.”

“I should have killed you when you were a child, whore,” Crowely spat at her. “I’m going to kill all of you, and throw that unicorn of yours into the sea with the others.” Meg laughed and let go of Castiel’s hand as she took a step forward.

“We’ll see.” She turned her head just a fraction and smiled at Sam. “Save the unicorns, Sammy. Save _my_ unicorn.” Sam threw himself backward, clutching Castiel’s coat and forcing the man back as Meg launched herself at Crowley. Dean pulled out Ruby’s knife and circled the pair, waiting for an opening as Sam and Castiel watched Meg and Crowley tear at each other.

Meg staggered backwards, blood streaming down her face from the king’s fists, and her eyes widened in horror when red smoke spewed forth from Crowley’s mouth. It raced toward her, and she let out a small, pained sound as it burst through her stomach and out her back. Her body glowed under the assault, a white light flashing for a moment before it faded, leaving her hair a pale yellow. She fell forward and landed hard on the sand, hand still clutching her sword. Her other hand gripped her stomach, trying to staunch the flow of blood from an invisible wound. Almost casually, the king strode forward and grabbed Meg by the front of her shirt, hauling her to her feet.

“I could chain you down in that dungeon and beat on your for eternity. There are more than enough unicorns to keep you alive for as long as I want. I could keep you on that rack until the sun explodes,” he told her. Sam watched and Dean ran forward, knife poised. But Meg just smiled and spat in Crowley’s face.

“Try it, pig.” Meg thrust the twisted sword forward and plunged it into his arm. The king snarled as she withdrew it before grabbing her arm and twisting it around. He plunged her own sword into her gut, right where the red smoke had blasted through her. She coughed once, and then fell backward onto the sand with a wet thump.

Sam and Dean both froze in horror, and Castiel ripped himself from Sam’s grasp. His hands fisted in the sand as he stared at her body, mouth open in a silent scream. Crowley turned and strode toward them, wiping his hands together. Castiel’s eyes snapped toward Crowley, and the sound of thunder rumbled across the beach as the king walked forward. His eyes narrowed, and just before Crowley reached the spot where he stood, lightening lit up the sky.

“Close your eyes,” Castiel ordered, turning his head slightly toward the brothers. Dean opened his mouth to protest when another clap of thunder sounded as a bright light began to blaze around the man. Dean raised his arm to shield his face, and when he lowered it again, Castiel the human was gone.

In the human’s spot stood the unicorn again in all his glory. He let out an angry, human scream of rage and pain, rearing back onto his hind legs with his wings spread to their full span. Lightening colored the world blue and rain began to pour, stirring up the sea. His horn shone in the storm, blazing like the light of a star.

The king’s eyes widened slightly in fear as the unicorn landed on all fours again, blue eyes blazing in anger. He lowered his horn and charged forward as Crowley opened his mouth and the red smoke spewed forth again. It spread over the unicorn the same way it had on the road outside of Hellmouth, but the unicorn did not run. Instead, another scream ripped from his throat and his wings beat the air, parting the smoke before him as he ran at Crowley, fueled by loss as no immortal creature had ever been. The king stepped backwards until he was at the very edge of the water again, the now-rolling waves rushing over his shoes. He spun to run down the beach, but the unicorn launched himself forward and thrust his horn through Crowley’s back.

The king let out a scream of pain as the unicorn jerked his head to the side, twisting his horn inside of the man’s heart. Light exploded from his chest and he fell forward. The unicorn slowly stepped back from the king’s body and tossed his head, blood glistening on his horn. Crowley’s body hit the water with a soft splash, the grayish waves rushing over it. The unicorn ignored the ocean and turned his head toward the sky.

Suddenly, flashes of light began to burst from the water, and the brothers were forced to shield their eyes once more as the unicorns launched themselves from the sea.

“Dean, they’re free,” Sam whispered. Dean turned toward his brother and saw the awe in his eyes as the unicorns burst from the sea, powerful wings beating as they flew. Others ran from the water, hooves thundering down the beach as they wove around the Winchesters and Meg’s body. The different colors of the unicorns blended together as they rushed past, a rainbow mass that bathed the sand in jewel-tones. Dean covered his eyes again from the harsh light even as he searched for his own unicorn among the herd.

The shore rumbled under them, and Crowley’s body vanished under the onslaught of hooves and the swirling foam of the sea. The smell of magic lit the air, and as the unicorns streamed from the water it changed from gray to a clear, crystal blue that shone under the now-strong sunlight.

Even after the thunderous sound of hooves ceased, Dean did not lower his arm from his face. Only after the pounding rain stopped pouring from the sky did he look at the world. He knelt in the soaked sand and watched the waves crash lazily onto the beach, taking back the last hoof prints that lingered on the shore. Castiel walked toward Dean, his head low to the ground and his tail brushing the sand.

“Cas, how did you turn back?” Dean asked hoarsely.

“I do not know, Dean,” the unicorn answered. The turned his face toward the sky. “I heard a voice in my head, Anna’s I believe, telling me it was time, and I felt power running through me. Someone did it, but I am not sure who. Perhaps it was our father.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but Sam laid a hand on his shoulder as the unicorn turned and began to walk toward Meg’s body.

The brothers watched him walk slowly, the unicorn’s wings uncurling so the tips of his feathers brushed against the sand. Meg lay half-buried on the beach, her now-golden hair stuck to her face by the rain. Washed clean from the blood that covered her, Sam thought that she looked almost peaceful, as if she could’ve been sleeping. Her jacket was crumpled around her, and her shirt had ridden up to expose her stomach. The mass of scars that crossed her body stood out against her pale skin, reddened by the pounding of the rain.

Castiel stood over her body for a long time, studying her small frame and battered features. “I remember you,” he whispered, so quietly Dean had to strain to hear him. “I am sorry. I would have liked to have been your husband, if things had been different. But I am not Anna. It seems that it is not meant for me.” Lowering his head, Castiel gently touched his horn to the wound in her stomach.

“Will that work?” Dean asked, not looking away. Sam swallowed and nodded, unable to take his eyes away from the unicorn.

“A unicorn’s horn can cure anything,” he whispered to his brother. “Even death.”

Light spread from Castiel’s horn, causing Meg’s torn flesh to knit itself back together. Her skin began to glow, and the brothers watched as the scars that decorated her body from years of torture faded, leaving her with smooth, newborn skin. Meg’s fingers flexed around the hilt of her sword as the light faded, but she made no sound. Her dark eyes fluttered, sending the sand that stuck to her face tumbling back onto the beach.

She stared at Castiel without speaking or moving, her brown eyes exploring his features before resting on his blue eyes. The unicorn moved instead, lowering his horn again so the tip of it rested gently against her lips. Still silent, he held it there for a long moment with his eyes closed.

The spell broke when Meg raised her hand. She brushed it against the side of Castiel’s face, causing the unicorn to move. Spreading his dark wings, Castiel leapt away from the princess in once fluid motion. He flew to the top of the cliff where the castle stood, still as gray and imposing as the day they had first come to Crowley’s land. The brothers opened their mouths to call to the unicorn, but he launched himself into the sky before their words could reach him.

They turned toward Meg and watched as she slowly lowered her arm back to the sand. She turned toward them, her trademark smirk blooming on her face. Even her eyes seemed to light up in triumph. But her voice betrayed her as she called to them, trembling with a mixture of loss, disbelief, and happiness.

“Don’t just stand there, dimwits. I’m the queen now, and big, strong men don’t leave queens lying in the dirt, now do they?”

.

“I’ll ride with you to the edge of the kingdom,” Meg offered as she climbed the stone steps off the beach and to the castle. Servants rushed out to greet them, no longer stone-faced with fear. Instead, they bowed to her and begged forgiveness.

“You all have it, except that one,” Meg promised, pointing to the girl from the kitchen that had reported them to Crowley. “You get out. I’d torture you, but I’m feeling generous.” The girl scampered away, and Meg raised her head higher, clutching her rust-colored sword. The tighter she gripped it, the faster her energy returned, changing her walk from slow and shuffling to the true, graceful steps of a queen. “Tell the groom to bring me my horse. No, three horses,” she corrected. “I’m going for a ride, but I will return. I want all of Crowley’s things cleared out and ready to burn when I get back. See if you can dig up Lucifer and Azazel’s old tapestries and things. I’m going to put things back the way they were.”

She turned from the servants and swung up onto her horse, tossing her tangled, golden hair away from her shoulders.

They rode from the palace and down the road to Hellmouth. Meg smiled at everything they passed. The land around the castle could not truly be called healthy, but it was no longer the barren, shrunken place they had ridden through all those months ago. The people in Hellmouth stared when Meg rode through, and Dean spotted Casey smiling at them from the door of her pub. She elbowed her husband and pointed to Meg before she threw her arms around the man.

When Meg told them Crowley was finally dead, the crowd cheered and gave their loyalty, some with wary eyes and some with smiles. Meg told them that anyone with a skill or a trade was welcome at her court, and looked toward Dean when she announced she would need good swords around her.

The land itself seemed to bloom more and more the farther they went. The grass became greener and the trees that bore fruit sagged und the weight of their bounties. They watched the children, who had stared at Sam and Dean with hollow eyes when they first rode past months ago, smile and laugh when they approached. A young girl threw flowers at the feet of Meg’s horse, and a young boy told her that she looked like a warrior princess with her sword and torn, still-bloody clothing. To their surprise, Meg laughed and ruffled the child’s hair before they watched them run back to their games.

They rode to the very edge of Meg’s kingdom, sleeping together under the stars and eating on the road. Meg came with them until they had almost reached the woods where Dean’s hunter camp waited for them. Pausing before the tree line, she tugged on her reigns and slid from the horse. “Alright, boys. It’s been real.”

“What are you gonna do now?” Sam asked her as he and Dean dismounted. Meg shrugged.

“Torture, maim, kill, and go to war. You know, what all evil rulers do.” She laughed at the look on their faces. “I’m shitting you. I feel too clean to do all that, at least right away. Probably a side effect of the whole unicorn resurrection thing.”

“It’s kind of funny,” Sam said. “Crowley wanted the unicorns for immortality, but one killed him, and now you’re sort of getting it.”

Meg quirked an eyebrow at him. “What the Hell are you talking about?”

“Unicorns live forever, and there’s never been a unicorn that was human and changed back,” Sam explained. “You’ll die, we’ll die, your kingdom will die and another one will come around. Castles will fall into the sea and the land will change, but he’ll remember you forever. Us, too, I guess. So there’s all our immortality.”

Meg laughed. “I guess so, Winchester. In any case, you and Deano over there stay safe, you hear me? I’m not gonna be around to save your asses again.”

“You didn’t save our asses,” Dean snapped. Meg just laughed at him and swung back onto her horse. She smiled sadly at them before she turned it around and stared back down the path. For a moment, Sam saw her shoulders fall under the weight of what was waiting for her. Then they straightened again like it had never happened, and she turned slightly to look at them.

“If you see my unicorn again, tell him ‘thanks’ from me,” she told them over her shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll see you two idiots again, though. Life’s funny that way.” Meg shifted in her saddle. “Either way, you should come back for a visit sometime. To kill me for being an evil conqueror, or just for old time’s sake, or whatever you want. We did share a foxhole back there.” To Sam, Meg’s voice seemed slightly sadder.

“Meg-” he began. But Meg ignored him and dug her heels into her horse, spurring it forward. She did not look back at them, but stood in her saddle and raised her face to the sun. The wind blew her hair back, and for a moment Sam could see a smile on her face, and he was shocked by how young she looked. It was gone as soon as it came, and the brothers fell silent as they watched her gallop back down the path until she was out of sight. When they turned toward the woods the unicorn stood there, silently watching the horizon.

“Cas! You scared the crap outta me!”

“I apologize, Dean,” the unicorn said. His voice was older and rougher than it had been when they met, although he once again appeared ageless. He continued to stare down the path where Meg had disappeared, and Dean had to fight the urge to lay a comforting hand on the unicorn’s shoulder.

“What will you do now?” Sam asked, holding up a hand to stop Dean from speaking. The unicorn flexed his wings and gave an almost-human sigh.

“My closest brothers and sisters have already returned to our wood. I will follow them, I suppose, and return to my meadow. I do not know how long I will stay there, however. I am not like I was before. I am still full of mortal feelings. Doubt, and regret, and lo-” The unicorn stopped speaking and lowered his head, closing his eyes. The brothers did not speak, and the unicorn gave another weary sigh.

“We helped do that to you. Meg, too. All of us,” Dead said sadly. “I’m sorry. We should’ve listened when you said you wanted to go back.”

“No, Dean. You did a good thing. My sister, Anna, was the unicorn I once spoke to you of. I understand better now why she chose to change. She was right in that your emotions, even the painful ones, are worth the price,” the unicorn responded. “The sword that Meg now holds is the one my sister once held, made from her horn after she was changed.” The unicorn’s own dark horn seemed to glow as he spoke, and for a moment Dean could read the grief in his friend’s eyes. It was gone as suddenly as it came, and the unicorn shook his head. “I do not regret the time I spent as a mortal. But I do regret how my time as one of you ended, and I suspect I always will.”

“Are we gonna see you again?” Dean asked. In response, the unicorn took a step forward and gently rested his horn on Sam’s chest over his heart, then did the same to Dean.

“I will always be able to find you now,” the unicorn told him. “I do not doubt that we will meet again. I am not like the others now. No other unicorn has felt love or hunger or regret like I have, except for Anna, and I doubt I will see her again in my dreams. The part of her still in this realm is with Meg now, and her task with me is done. You two are my friends, and I may need your help again with these mortal emotions. Farwell, Winchesters.”

The unicorn took two steps back from them and spread his dark wings. When Dean blinked he was gone without even the rustling of wings or a shadow in the sky. They stood silently for a moment before Sam mounted his horse, Dean following a moment after.

“We’re gonna have to kill her, you know,” Dean said as they began to trot down the road. Sam shrugged.

“You never know. She might not turn out to be an evil queen. She was touched by a unicorn’s grace. That had to have put some good in her,” he told his brother. “Besides, I don’t think you can play both roles in a fairytale, and she’s already been cast in the role of the good princess.”

“The fairy tale’s over, Sam,” Dean told him. “This is real life.” Sam sighed and leaned forward on his horse.

“How about we just concentrate on what we’re going to do next?” he groaned. Dean laughed as the two rode into the trees. Almost immediately they were greeted by a happy yell. Lisa ran from the now-green forest and stopped on the path and waved at Dean, a smile on her face. Amelia stood beside her, staring at Sam with a shy smile.

Dean beamed back at them as other hunters emerged from the trees, lowering their crossbows and calling to them. “We go to work, Sammy.”


End file.
